Kill the Heroes

by David Thurlo

  “Hey, you know us,” Gordon said, fastening his own seat belt.

  “That’s the problem. No violence, guys, please,” she added.

  Charlie started the car and pulled out into the narrow side street, heading west down the block. Charlie slowed and looked south down the alley, but saw no pickup.

  “Unless you’re in danger,” Ruth finally added.

  The businesses merged into an old residential area just at the end of the block, so Charlie made a left and headed south. All three of them were looking into parking lots and along the street for the red vehicle.

  “Gordon, you checked the alley running north, didn’t you?” Charlie asked.

  “Of course, I’m watching my side all the way,” he responded.

  As soon as Charlie began the turn back east at the next intersection, Ruth called out, “Is that it?” She pointed across the street, halfway up the block.

  “Might be,” Charlie commented. “Try to get an ID, Gordon. Ruth and I will keep eyes front so we won’t spook the guy.”

  As they drove past, Gordon looked out of the corner of his eye without turning his head, all part of his urban recon training. “He’s got a hat and sunglasses, but I recognize that weak chin. It’s Azok. He’s got a gun rack in the back—empty though.”

  “He’s a rifle owner, no surprise. Crap, there he goes,” Charlie exclaimed as the pickup suddenly accelerated out from the curb and fled in the opposite direction. “Hang on, you two!”

  Chapter Nine

  With no traffic at the moment and no vehicles along the curb, Charlie was free to go Grand Theft Auto. He whipped the low-slung Dodge around in a moonshiner’s turn and raced after the pickup, which was already taking the corner in a wild skid.

  “What’ll we do if we catch him?” Ruth asked, hanging onto the door handle.

  “One step at a time,” Gordon interjected. “Hopefully, he won’t make a left. Crap, too late.”

  The pickup swung left, slid sideways, then straightened out and roared down the center of the residential neighborhood. Azok leaned on the horn and three teenagers in the middle of the street fled to the curb just in time.

  Charlie took his foot off the gas and slid through the turn with squealing tires. “I’m not going to keep up the pursuit, guys. It’s not worth risking some kid or pet getting run over. He’s won this one.”

  “I hope Azok slows down before it’s too late,” Ruth replied. “Where do you think he’s going now? Maybe we can catch up to him somewhere? His apartment?”

  “We can’t do much except lean on him and have someone call the cops. There’s no way we can prove the stalking. A police officer has to catch him in the act,” Charlie reminded.

  “Azok is a real nutcase, but he probably won’t come back here right away. He knows we’ll be returning to Back Up for my truck,” Gordon said.

  “He’s obsessed with Patricia, so where will he go, then? To her apartment, maybe?” Ruth offered.

  “Yeah, that’s a good bet. We don’t know how long Patricia is going to be at the business today, but how about if one of us stakes out Back Up and sees where she goes when she leaves?” Charlie suggested. “And the other can go to her apartment and see if Azok shows up and gets into position.”

  “We don’t know where she lives, do we?” Ruth asked.

  “But we know someone who does,” Gordon pointed out. “Unofficially, of course.”

  “Nancy,” Ruth replied.

  They were back in the Back Up office parking lot in less than a minute, and all the vehicles were still there. After a quick call to Nancy, Charlie had the address for Patricia Azok’s apartment.

  “What did the detective say?” Gordon asked after writing down the details in a pocket spiral notebook.

  Charlie shrugged. “Nancy said don’t pick a fight, and don’t hurt Azok except in self-defense. If he shows up at his wife’s apartment, we’re to keep out of sight and call Dispatch. They’ll send an officer who can confirm Azok’s violation of the restraining order. And, just in case the guy is actually the killer, we’re not supposed to get ourselves shot.”

  “I can live with that,” Gordon responded, getting out of the Charger.

  Ruth groaned. “Let’s get set up, guys,” she said, climbing out of the back. “And this time, I’m riding shotgun.”

  Gordon drove off, and they waited, parked halfway down the street in the northside alley behind a warehouse that had a FOR RENT sign on the side. They could see anyone coming down the street, and were angled so they could see into the residential area, in the direction Charlie guessed Azok would use for his approach.

  Several minutes later, after watching a dozen cars and trucks pass by, Ruth looked over at Charlie with a wicked grin. “Aren’t we a little old to go parking?”

  “You’re as old as you look, and you look young and beautiful. Wanna make out?”

  Ruth laughed and Charlie joined in. After a moment, still smiling, she turned to him again. “Thanks, that helps with the tension. I thought for a while we might be heading into another shoot-out.”

  “Just say the word and I’ll take you back to the pawn shop. I never, ever want to put you in danger, Ruth. I know that things get interesting around Gordon and me, and you could earn a lot more money elsewhere. You’ve got an MBA.”

  “You know my history, Charlie. I feel safer around you and your friends—my friends too—than anywhere else right now.” She reached over and put her hand upon his.

  Charlie’s phone signaled a call and he reluctantly reached onto the console for it. “It’s Gordon.” Charlie put it on speaker.

  “Charlie. The guy just pulled into his garage, switched to a black Toyota Camry, then took off again. I’m following at a distance,” Gordon said.

  “How about we try and put the squeeze on him?”

  “Yeah, if we can get into position on a quiet street. No sense in getting anyone hurt, or risking a dent in the purple stallion,” Gordon said.

  “This car?” Ruth asked, rolling her eyes.

  ‘Hi, Ruth,” Gordon said. “You know Charlie loves the Charger.”

  “Enough. Where is Azok headed now?” Charlie asked, eager to confront the guy. If he’d been the one who ambushed him in the alley, Charlie had an idea that another confrontation might goad Azok into doing something really stupid.

  “He’s heading west on Candelaria,” Gordon responded, “and that will make it hard for you to get ahead and cut him off. If he reaches Rio Grande Boulevard, he’ll have to go either north or south.”

  “Or he could make a left or right on several streets before that. What’s he up to, and why did he switch vehicles?” Charlie wondered aloud. “Keep following him, but stay loose. I’m going to go north to Griegos, then head for Rio Grande.”

  “If he goes south, though, there goes the plan.”

  “Yeah, well. There’s also a lot more traffic south. It’ll be easier to lose him anyway.”

  “Okay. Stay on speaker so we’ll both have hands free for any sudden turns.”

  Charlie made the best use of the traffic lights he could, and a few minutes later he was approaching Rio Grande Boulevard. The news from Gordon was good; Azok had reached Rio Grande, turned north, and was coming in his direction. Charlie pulled over to the side and waited for Gordon’s signal.

  “Something’s weird,” Gordon said. “It’s like he slowed down so I wouldn’t lose him. You think he’s setting a trap?”

  Ruth looked over at him with raised eyebrows.

  “He can’t know I’m ahead of him on the same street,” Charlie pointed out. “Just be careful and don’t get any closer until I’m in position. You know the drill.”

  “Copy.”

  “What drill?” Ruth asked.

  “We did this a few times in-country—Iraq.”

  “With body armor, plenty of guns, and maybe air cover.”

  “True. But if Azok shows a weapon, we’re backing off. And when this goes down, please do everything I say, okay? I don’t w
ant you hurt.”

  “You’ve already said that.”

  “Just checking,” Charlie responded.

  A few minutes later Gordon spoke again. “Pull up and wait for the next green light, then go. He’s approaching the intersection, but probably can’t make the light unless he decides to run it.”

  “Copy.” Charlie pulled out into the street, coming to a stop at the intersection, where the light was red. “The speed limit on Rio Grande ahead drops to twenty-five, so he should close on me a little anyway.”

  Charlie timed it well, and was soon heading north with Azok’s sedan behind him about a half dozen car lengths. After about a mile, in an area with large alfalfa fields on either side, Charlie was primed and ready. Anticipating Gordon’s okay, he looked over to Ruth. “Get ready and hang on.”

  He looked into the side mirror. “Hey, Azok’s slowing down.” Charlie took his foot off the gas, dropping below 25 mph.

  “Yeah,” Gordon replied. “I’m closing in. Hit it!”

  Charlie slammed on the brakes, but the Camry behind him was already pulling over to the shoulder. They came to a stop, and Charlie put the Charger into reverse, backing up within a few feet of the sedan. Gordon had pulled up right behind Azok, his truck angled to block the man from backing up, and a fence to the right blocked an escape in that direction.

  Charlie jumped out, his Beretta at his hip, safety off. “Stay put, Ruth, and get ready to hit the deck if I yell gun.”

  Gordon was already approaching the car, hugging the driver’s side. If Azok had a pistol, or especially a long gun, he’d have to lean out the window or open the door to shoot, and Charlie could see that coming. His hand was down by his holster, ready to draw if required.

  “I’m unarmed, Henry. Don’t you or your pal do anything stupid!” came a voice Charlie didn’t recognize.

  As he stepped up to the driver’s door, it was clear that this wasn’t Steven Azok. Just who the hell was this guy, and what was going on?

  Gordon stepped up and looked in the backseat for another passenger. “They did a switch in Azok’s garage. Who the hell are you?”

  “Looks like ol’ Steve has a younger brother,” Charlie said, now that he’d thought about it a few seconds. Then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye—it was Ruth climbing out of the Charger.

  “Call Nancy—Sergeant Medina—and tell her that Azok ditched us and his location is unknown. He may have returned to the Back Up office.”

  Ruth nodded. “Who is this man?”

  “Aubrey Azok, lovely lady,” the man replied. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Ruth grimaced, then turned her back and brought out her phone.

  Charlie wanted to punch the guy right then, or maybe yank him out of the open window and give him a decent beatdown. Instead he decided on a mad dog stare.

  Aubrey, if that was his real name, just smiled. “Is your passenger dating anyone?”

  “Can I hit him?” Gordon asked, coming up beside the door.

  “Short and baby-faced. You must be the guy Steve roughed up at the hospital the other night.”

  Both Charlie and Gordon nearly laughed, but there was nothing else they could do. “Where is your brother? Back home, cowering under his bed?” Charlie asked, then realized it was his own anger speaking, not his common sense. They’d been suckered, and it was their fault.

  Aubrey shrugged. “No idea. Maybe you should stop by his home—again.”

  Gordon looked at Charlie, then nodded toward an approaching police car. “Might as well go.”

  They turned and headed back to their vehicles. “Have a nice day,” Azok’s brother yelled, followed by laughter.

  “Back to the shop?” Gordon asked.

  “Yeah, but let’s swing back to Azok’s place on the way,” Charlie said.

  When he climbed into the Charger, Ruth was waiting.

  “We followed the wrong guy, huh?” she asked.

  “Steve had his brother waiting at his house in the Toyota when he returned. Gordon couldn’t see into the garage from the angle he was parked, so he assumed that Aubrey was Steve, switching vehicles,” Charlie said as he checked traffic, then made a U-turn and headed south again, passing by Aubrey and Gordon, who were still parked on the shoulder.

  “Okay. So we don’t know where Steve is right now—home, Patricia’s house, the business, or on the road,” Ruth observed.

  “Remind me to make sure he’s not headed for the pawn shop, waiting for us to return,” Charlie said, checking the mirror to verify that Gordon was now following.

  “Nancy sent an officer to watch Back Up, then escort Patricia home to ensure she’s not being watched again,” Ruth affirmed. “Nancy’s going to see if there’s any surveillance that may have caught Steve violating the restraining order.”

  “Good idea. That could get him arrested. Even if he’s not the shooter, Steve deserves some justice,” Charlie said.

  Fifteen minutes later, they approached Azok’s house. There was no red pickup visible in the driveway or along the street, so Charlie pulled up beside the curb. “There’s a garage window, let me take a look and see if the pickup is still inside.”

  Ruth unsnapped her seat belt and opened her door. “I’ve got this,” she said, stepping up onto the sidewalk.

  “No. If he’s inside…”

  “If he’s the one who’s killing people, I don’t want him to have a reason to shoot you as a window peeper, Charlie. You’ve got my back, right?” She turned and walked briskly up the driveway.

  “Copy,” Charlie replied automatically. He already knew how brave and intelligent the lady was, but this was a new side of Ruth he’d never seen before. Beautiful and proactive—that made her even more amazing.

  He looked back and forth, checking the windows, doors, and sides of the house, watching for the movement of a curtain, a shadow, anything that might reveal that Steve was watching, or about to react.

  Ruth stood on tiptoe and looked inside the side window of the garage, then turned and shook her head. Next, she walked back along the side of the garage and took a quick glance behind the house before heading back toward the car. He leaned over and opened the door as she stepped up on the sidewalk.

  She slipped inside gracefully, reaching for her seat belt. “No vehicles at all, not even in the alley behind the house. Here comes Gordon.”

  Charlie looked in the mirror, seeing his pal’s pickup approaching. Gordon pulled up alongside, his passenger window down. “No sign of the red pickup, or any vehicle,” Charlie said.

  “So, back to the shop?” Gordon asked.

  “Might as well,” Charlie answered. “Then we can figure out what to do next.”

  “Okay. You hear from Nancy?”

  “No. If I do, I’ll give you a call,” Charlie replied.

  “Copy. See you in twenty,” Gordon said, then drove away.

  Charlie looked for traffic, then pulled away from the curb and followed Gordon. Then he looked over at Ruth and saw she was texting. “Rene?”

  She nodded, checked the display on her phone, then smiled and entered a short message.

  “Yes. I’ve got his teacher’s cell phone number and she and I keep in touch. He’s doing fine, working with his tablet on a spelling lesson.”

  “My parents say that their school tablets had a big Indian Chief, in headdress, on the front. And the entry device was a fat pencil,” Charlie said.

  “Rene began with a pencil and a spiral notebook. He still prefers drawing on paper instead of a screen.”

  “Colored pencils don’t need a battery,” he said. “But the good thing is, Rene is able to go to a regular school.”

  “Right now, I wish he was with us. There’s still no news on Lawrence’s whereabouts, and he promised to make me pay for sending him to prison.”

  “He was the one who decided to lie, cheat, and steal from his business contacts—and to hurt you and Rene. All you did was confirm what the FBI already knew.”

  “A man like Lawrence i
s a predator with no conscience. The only thing he’d blame himself for is getting caught. I hope he’s hiding in some shed in the woods, cold and hungry, with nowhere to go,” Ruth said. “How could I have loved a man who’s so evil?”

  “The heart often controls the brain, instead of the other way around,” Charlie replied.

  “So, are we stupid, thinking we might have the chance for a future together?” Ruth whispered.

  Just the thought of that possibility, and the fact that she’d actually said it, made Charlie’s heart pound, and he couldn’t think at all for a moment. Finally he reached over and put his hand on hers. It was now or never time. “There’s nothing that makes more sense than my feelings toward you, Ruth.”

  “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that, Charlie.”

  * * *

  They held hands until finally Charlie had to let go because of traffic, but he couldn’t stop smiling until they entered FOB Pawn. It was past noon now, so Charlie and Ruth walked down to Frank and Linda’s to pick up salads and sandwiches for everyone. They all ate in the office, taking turns helping customers who came into the shop.

  About 1:00 PM, Charlie’s phone rang. “It’s Nancy, calling from her downtown desk,” he announced to Gordon, who was working with the internet site.

  “Detective Medina,” Charlie greeted. “What’s the news on the Azok brothers?”

  “Aubrey, the younger one, has a mostly clean record—just some traffic citations—and works nights at one of the big-box stores in the shipping department. That explains why he was available to his brother, Steven, who is unemployed at the moment. I was able to get a look at elder Azok’s rap sheet—all domestic violence arrests—and checked with his listed employer, a medical supply company. He worked part-time—afternoons and evenings—making deliveries of oxygen and medical devices to residences. Steven was apparently fired last week after not showing up for his shift four days in a row.”

  “Was he off the night of the shooting?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes, and also the night you were ambushed,” Nancy confirmed. “DuPree wanted to bring him in for an interview, but the officers couldn’t get anyone to answer the door at his residence.”