Running Cold (The Mick Callahan Novels)

by Harry Shannon

  Jessie stepped to the right, facing Wes. She was careful, stayed a couple of yards away from both men. "Wes, you got the men who killed your father. You took them out over in Catalina."

  "Why me, Jessie?"

  "Okay." She thought for a time. "I can tell you this much. An operation went down in Vegas. An item was secured and handed off to me in a casino by one of our operatives. I went to ground for a while, because we couldn't risk uploading or copying the contents. I was on my way back to Los Angeles when my bosses notified me that I'd picked up a tail. Those kids smoking in the train station, as a matter of fact."

  Wes remembered. "So you dumped the suitcase with me. You planted a couple of hints so I'd eventually figure things out. But why me?"

  "I can't answer that."

  Callahan started to fill in the blanks, but a man's voice stopped him cold. The voice said, "I can answer it."

  Everyone turned to the opposite side of the building. The obese man who entered wheezed a bit, as if he'd had to climb some stairs from a lower level.

  "Julius?" Wes McCann seemed genuinely startled. "What the fuck?"

  "I'm sorry, Wes. The suitcase was on its way to me when Jessie had to get rid of it. We knew you'd been something of a war hero, that you could hold your own under pressure. You were our backup plan all along."

  "How?"

  "I knew about the gaming trip, your father told me everything. Jessie was to connect with you, and either accompany you home or hand off the merchandise. Once it was next door, all I'd have to do was con it out of you, or pick it up when you weren't looking."

  "And what if I opened it?"

  "You wouldn't have known what it was. Hell, you would probably have brought it to me to have a look and figure it out. Worst case scenario, you'd turn it over to the cops or even Homeland Security. That wouldn't have been optimum, but better than letting Blackwatch keep it."

  "So these dudes aren't Blackwatch?"

  "No. Mercenaries yes, but they work for a man called Avant."

  "Pity," Callahan said. "You had such a great plan, but everything went south."

  "I got away clean," Jessie said, a bit defensively.

  Julius just stared at her. "The evidence says otherwise."

  Jessie protested, "Wes, I have no idea how they tracked this to your father."

  Callahan seemed far less upset than the others. "So what happens now? You can't let us leave knowing all this, but we're innocent of any wrongdoing. That makes things pretty damned messy, doesn't it?"

  Jessie nodded. She looked at her men. They were into a small half circle, weapons raised. "Yes, it does. I'm sorry."

  "Hold on." Julius raised a hand to attract attention. His shaved head was shiny with sweat. "Avant wants the suitcase, not more dead bodies."

  Jessie sighed. "Stay out of this, Julius."

  "Or?"

  "Don't piss me off, fat boy."

  "Are you threatening me?"

  She turned, her eyes blistering. "Look, we already have another bidder for the contents."

  "What? This information should go to me. Avant said . . ."

  "I have my orders. Avant can go screw himself."

  "Wow, Julius," Callahan said, mildly. "Did you hear that?"

  Jessie scowled. Her Blackberry was buzzing. She paused and opened a pocket, brought up a coded text and stared at it for several seconds. She closed the phone again. Her gaze traveled across Callahan and Wes and ended on Julius, who stood alone in the middle of the room like a camping tent with feet.

  Jessie turned to the soldiers. "Gentlemen, you do remember who's paying for your services, right?"

  The man nearest her nodded. "We do."

  "Okay, then."

  The soldier kept her within his sight. He turned to Julius. "What would you like us to do, next, sir?"

  Jessie's mouth dropped open. Her eyes widened. She looked like someone who'd just lost control of her life. "Wait. Hold on. Julius, did you cut a side deal with Blackwatch? Is that why they came after Wes and his father?"

  Julius didn't answer. He didn't even blink. To Callahan, his silence was tantamount to an admission of guilt. He's Avant and he double-crossed everyone involved.

  Jessie sighed. "What are you going to do with these men?"

  Julius said, "Like you said, I'm sorry. They need to disappear."

  Jessie's eyes narrowed. She shifted her weight back on the balls of her feet, a movement almost imperceptible, but meaningful enough to make both Callahan and Wes go tense.

  Julius didn't notice. He turned and asked the lead mercenary a question, "Is she still armed?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well take her weapon, you idiot."

  Jessie produced a Glock from her vest, as if by magic. She aimed at Julius. Her hand stayed perfectly steady. The other mercenaries aimed at her but all held fire. Callahan and Wes both eased down to the floor. Sat down. They crawled back a ways. They were momentarily forgotten.

  "So you really are Avant," Jessie said. "I've wondered about that for weeks." Despite her steady hands, her voice sounded shaky. "Well, well. It seems like we have ourselves a bit of a problem. I've got some new orders. I can't let you hurt these men, and you're probably not prepared to die for the contents of that suitcase."

  "Look," Julius spread his palms. "I am unarmed, and you are outnumbered. All I want is the information I paid for."

  "There are people who don't want it disseminated now, Julius. Excuse me, Mr. Avant."

  "Right now, I am your problem, not those people."

  She swallowed dryly. "Yes, you are."

  "Calm down. We can work something out. Perhaps my men will slap you around a bit to make it look good, then let you go. No one has to die."

  He tried a sudden move, reached for something under his loose shirt, likely a weapon. Jessie shot him in the face. Julius just collapsed. Caught off guard by her ruthlessness, perhaps still impressed by her authority, the men in black fumbled with their weapons. She turned, firing again.

  Callahan pulled at Wes to drag him to cover, but Wes was already moving, rolling away toward the pile of torture instruments and the plastic sheeting. Callahan crawled in the other direction to make them tougher targets. Time seemed to both slow down and speed up again. The mercenaries discharged their weapons all at once. The noise was deafening. The plastic sheets ripped to shreds. Splintered boards and dry wall dust sprayed the air.

  Jessie kept shooting, dropping to one knee, firing in a circle. She managed to hit three of the four mercenaries, but the last one shot her twice. She fell backwards. Her sidearm slid across the floor. Callahan went for it on his knees. He got his hands on the handle and threw himself backwards. The Blackwatch soldier was tracking Mick and tightening his finger on the trigger when he saw something flying towards his chest. The man flinched and his shot went wild. The huge knife Wes had thrown missed his body by inches.

  By then Callahan had fired twice, aiming for center mass. His first shot went high and to the right. The second caught the mercenary in the throat. Blood spouted and he dropped to his knees, clutching at his neck. He fell face down, twitching. The pool of blood grew steadily. The motion stopped.

  Wes scrambled back to Jessie. He tore off his shirt and tried to stop her bleeding. "I don't know why you did that, but thanks."

  Callahan checked the bodies. Everyone was dead or dying. He kicked the weapons away just in case. "I know why, Wes."

  Jessie was trembling from shock. She was choking on her own blood. Wes looked up. Callahan pointed to her vest. "Check her Blackberry."

  Wes opened the phone. He read the most recent message. "Wait. Someone just ordered her to protect us, and to arrest or kill Avant?"

  Callahan squatted next to Wes on the bloody floor. "You're going to be okay, Jessie. Just take it easy."

  Jessie gasped. She nodded furiously.

  Callahan said, "Jessie, you played me perfectly, but then you made one small slip. You used the name Wes too soon, before I'd said it myself. You said 'm
aybe Wes did it, what if the son killed his own father?' So I started thinking it over. Things didn't add up. You lived in an apartment furnished by an old lady. You used a name you couldn't have known."

  Jessie sighed. "Your friend?"

  Callahan nodded. "Wes, I had Jerry run a background check. The girl I knew as Stella had no Social Security number and no credit record. Jerry tracked her back through everything she's ever done online. Eventually he ended up hijacking her texts and discovered she worked as a double-agent for both the US government and Blackwatch."

  Jessie groaned, now one step ahead of his explanation. She'd put it all together. Callahan continued, "Yes, the order you got? The one to rescue us and take out Avant? That came from me through my hacker pal Jerry. He knew that if I didn't show up for the meeting or somehow things went south, he was to make sure that much got done right away. I figured we'd be seeing you again."

  "And she thought it came from the Feds." Wes wiped his brow. His fingers left pink froth. "Did you know about Jessie and Julius all along?"

  "Julius told me he was Avant, but I didn't know what anyone else knew, so I kept my mouth shut. As for the rest of it, I just suspected the last couple of days. We both knew this couldn't have been about Roth and a few grand, especially after I'd guaranteed the debt. And we both knew it wasn't a big stretch to figure you had stepped into something messy. I have friends, so I asked around and came up with some ideas. We put a plan together just in case."

  "Wes?" Jessie's mouth was red with her own blood. Callahan noticed who she asked. "Am I going to die here?"

  Wes looked at Callahan. "Can we get her some help?"

  And that's when they heard sirens in the distance. Lots of them, streaming closer by the second.

  "They took the battery out of my cell phone," Callahan said, "but Jerry had already rigged the GPS to run on another tiny one hidden inside. They've been tracking us. My guess is they've already called for cops and ambulances, the whole works. Someone will be here soon. We'll get you to a hospital. After that, who knows."

  Wes stroked her hair. He held her eyes with his own. He seemed smitten "You're going to be okay."

  Mick backed away quietly. He left to find the front entrance.

  EPILOGUE

  Saturday morning

  That long night crawled into morning. Outside, Callahan rested his head in his hands. He was hungry and needed some coffee. The crime scene team was going over everything for the tenth time. He'd been questioned repeatedly. Dawn was crawling up the foothills. There was a chill in the air, which smelled of gasoline. They were indeed back in the San Fernando Valley, the warehouse was near a small private air strip.

  "You know what pisses me off?" Jerry asked. "Here I rip off DOD for sixteen nanometer tracking technology and totally outsmart the most famous hacker on the planet, and I'll never be able to brag about it."

  "We'll know," Callahan said. "You done good."

  "Avant was actually going to sell off this shit for money, huh? So much for that classy libertarian reputation."

  "Maybe he was sick of the life he was living. Maybe he just felt stuck."

  Jerry shrugged. "Wonder if his people are the ones that did Roth and Quinn earlier tonight."

  "What?"

  "I didn't tell you? Taken out, both of them. The killers surely chopped them up the same kind of way as Calvin McCann. So someone must have thought they knew something about the suitcase."

  "Could have been a mob thing."

  "Absolutely, but it sure was nasty."

  Callahan thought of Quinn and that viscous reputation. "Either way, couldn't happen to a nicer guy."

  Yards away, Wes McCann was sitting next to a stretcher, whispering to Jessie. They held hands tightly. She'd already talked two ambulance attendants out of taking her away. Callahan figured she knew where her bread was buttered. Jessie was doing her best to make sure Wes was in her corner. She was going to need a lot of help, and she had played her cards right by coming through for them. Callahan had already put in a good word via Skype. Hal was paying her legal fees and pulling strings with the Feds. They owed her that much. Jerry leaned closer. He seemed irritated, all of a sudden.

  "So after all this, whatever it is stays secret?"

  Callahan rubbed his eyes. "That's not up to us. At least it doesn't go to Blackwatch or get sold to the highest bidder."

  "Do you want to know what it was? Don't you wonder?"

  Do I? Or is that suitcase some kind of a numinous symbol of the future, an unknown item that could be a treasure or a curse? I don't want to open it. Hell, like tomorrow, maybe it's better left a mystery.

  "Come on, Mick. Don't you want to look inside?"

  "Honestly? No."

  "You're crazier than ever," Jerry said. He straightened up suddenly. "Mick, check this out."

  The black stretch limo sent to take them to dinner rolled down the pavement, turned the corner, passed a long chain link fence and slowly approached the warehouse. Callahan felt his stomach flutter. It had been so many years. He got to his feet. "Well, I'll be damned. So Hal stayed in town?"

  "Weird. I thought he'd be in the air by now. He was boarding when we spoke to him about Jessie."

  Wes McCann looked up. He patted Jessie on the head. He spotted the car as it arrived and whistled as if impressed. With Jessie Keaton there, Wes seemed happy for the first time.

  Callahan walked over to the limo, peered through the tinted windows. He heard the door locks click open. He opened the nearest passenger door and peered inside, expecting to see Hal's patrician face and silver hair.

  "Hi, cowboy."

  "Darlene?"

  "Get in."

  Callahan slid onto the seat. He looked back at Wes McCann and Jerry.

  Wes called, "Hey Callahan? Looks like our luck is changing."

  Jerry and Wes laughed. They both waved goodbye. Callahan closed the door. A thickly padded silence flooded his ears. Darlene checked some of his bumps and bruises and the dried blood on his torn clothing. Her expression showed concern. "Mick, you look like shit."

  "Thanks. Hal had to leave again?"

  "On his way to Tokyo," she said. "The dinner was great. He spent the entire time trying to convince me to give you another chance."

  "And did he?"

  Darlene shook her head. "No."

  Callahan looked down, his spirit broken. Darlene tapped on the glass, telling the driver to take off. The limo drove away smoothly as the whisk of a new broom. The vehicle smelled brand new. Callahan caught the scent of her perfume. And then Darlene moved closer and kissed his cheek.

  "What convinced me to give you another chance was the way you handled Dennis," she whispered.

  "You got that message?"

  "He was their supervisor tonight. Dennis ran DeRossi and Penzler. So they had to have cut him in on what they thought was the drug money."

  Callahan said "Yes."

  "Once you knew that, you had Jerry hustle to give me a heads up and some information. Just so I wouldn't look like a fool in my own precinct?"

  "Yes."

  "By the way, Dennis and that attorney who set it up, Pearlman? They were both arrested an hour ago. Dennis rolled over in a heartbeat, the prick. Cops freak out about doing time."

  Callahan closed his eyes. He nodded wearily. "Look, I'm just glad you found out before it all blew up."

  "See? That's what I love you for," Darlene said.

  "Now I'm really confused."

  "You can't help being a nice guy, even when I'm acting like an ass."

  She kissed him. He kissed her back. More than once. Callahan figured Wes McCann was right.

  His luck was finally changing.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Harry Shannon has been an actor, a singer, an Emmy-nominated songwriter, a recording artist in Europe, a music publisher, a VP of Carolco Pictures, and worked as a free-lance Music Supervisor on films such as "Basic Instinct" and "Universal Soldier." He is now a counselor in private practice. His books include
Dead and Gone (a Lionsgate movie), Daemon, the Mick Callahan novels Memorial Day, Eye of the Burning Man, One of the Wicked, and Running Cold, as well as the thriller The Pressure of Darkness. Shannon has won the Black Quill for Short Fiction, the Tombstone for Best Horror Novel and has twice been nominated for the Stoker. He can be reached via his web site at www.harryshannon.com or via Facebook.

  Table of Contents

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  About the Author