by Scott Cook
However, it didn’t do to pine over what was not, one must simply deal with what was.
What I liked about Veronica’s house was that there was only one way in. That was on the first floor, or the second floor, if you counted the garage below. Yes, there was an elevator that went up and into the house, but that could be locked on either floor above, making the ground floor entrance useless. My opponents would have to come up through a nice choke point. Unless they brought climbing gear, which I thought was unlikely.
What I didn’t know, however, was from what direction they’d come. If by land, then I could cover their approach from down in the parking area. If they motored back in that loud go-fast, then they could gain access to the upper level from the dock… but everybody on Earth would hear them coming a mile away. That boat was hardly what one would call stealthy.
As it turned out, they did it both ways, the sneaky pricks.
As I flattened myself against the outer wall by the small elevator, I heard the low rumble of the cigarette’s engines as it moved slowly back down the canal. I knew without even a shadow of a doubt that this would be at least one of the goons. I also knew that this sound was probably the signal to the others to move in as well.
I’d long since cleared my weapon and fitted my night vision monocular over my left eye. My position was decent for covering the stairs up to the deck, but not very well for seeing the street and the front approach to the house. Lisa’s Mercedes and Veronica’s Infinity were parked side by side and my Jeep behind them. This blocked my view considerably. I’d either have to move or wait until they appeared near me and possibly back-shoot them. I’d rather not do that. I’ll kill an opponent… but shooting him or her in the back was not my style.
Unless they were incredibly stupid or had balls of brass, the man or men coming to the house by land wouldn’t simply walk straight up the driveway. They’d probably come from the north, using the garage as cover. Veronica’s yard wasn’t much larger than the house on the sides. The house was separated from her northern neighbor by a six-foot privacy hedge and bordered on the south by a seawall. The yard extended back perhaps fifty feet to the eastern seawall where the large dock was. Only the southeastern corner was grass, the other corner being taken up by the pool. I needed to move.
I crouched low and quietly stepped over to Lisa’s SUV and then moved to my Jeep and peeked around the back. As I watched, a dark shape slid silently along the hedge toward the far corner of the garage. One man was going to come around the structure on the front and the other on the back. I hoped that I was the only one with night vision as I lay on the concrete and aimed my pistol, using my elbows to brace myself.
In my monocular, the man was much easier to identify, even in his black clothing. His black pistol, what looked like a MAC-10 or maybe an H&K MP5 with a suppressor. In any case, a big nasty handgun that could fire 9mm rounds on full auto. Apparently, these cats were taking this very seriously. That was fine… I could use a new gun.
He slid along the double doors of the garage, his feet not making a single sound on the concrete. Whoever these guys were, they were used to this type of Ninja shit. Professional assassins. Cardoza was certainly taking this seriously as well.
“Mida…” I whispered.
The man froze in his tracks, his head coming around toward the sound of my voice. Before he could do something foolish like shoot at me, I put two rounds into his center mass. The only sound he made was a low grunt deep in his throat and the sound of his body sliding down into a heap on the concrete.
I waited.
If he hadn’t been alone, which I assumed he wasn’t, then his partner was probably on the other side of the garage doing the same thing. Veronica’s pool deck was level with the second floor, which meant that the pool itself appeared only as a large cement structure on the ground level. However, between the garage and the pool was a small passageway that ran under the deck above and gave access to the pool pump and heater. That’s where the second man would be moving now.
Not hearing anyone else and not seeing him either with my naked eye or enhanced eye, I got to my feet and crossed the open space between me and the man I’d shot in five long strides. I grabbed his weapon and began to move toward the north side of the house. A quick look confirmed that it was indeed a Heckler and Koch MP5. I was familiar with the weapon and those like it. SEALs often used them on missions where close-quarters combat was expected. I’d trained with a similar machine pistol or compact sub-machine gun many times.
I eased around the side of the garage and scanned the area. No one between the hedge and the house. My target must have already gone around the back side. I heard the powerful engines of the cigarette boat die. The vessel was tied up at the dock and that man would probably be coming toward the house as well. A full-on night assault.
I moved quickly to the back corner of the garage and leaned my monocular around the corner and peered down the six-foot-wide space between the pool wall and the back of the garage. I could just see the open-riser stairs thirty feet away and saw a pair of feet disappear as they went up. I silently cursed and ran through the passageway and swung around to go up the steps as well. A quick scan showed no one in the yard and no one on what part of the dock I could see from that position.
I bit my lip and shoved my Colt into my waistband. Then I began to climb, keeping the MP5 in my right hand and staying as low as I could, using my left to hold my body parallel with the angle of the stairs.
I reached the top and laid as flat as I could, the edges of the paver-stone steps digging into my chest, belly, groin and legs. The steps were bordered by a concrete wall that joined another on the edge of the upper deck on the left. This one connected with the back of the house ten feet back. On the right, the stair wall connected to a decorative wooden railing that encircled the pool deck and met up with the house near the northern corner. The deck itself was dominated by the pool. There were also half a dozen loungers, a large six-top table and chairs with folded umbrella and a combination outdoor kitchen and tiki bar near the far corner. A low retaining wall separated the outdoor kitchen section from the loungers between it and the double sliders that led into the living room.
The deck, at least what I could see of it, was empty… and the sliders were open.
Where was the man I’d followed up here? Where was the guy from the boat? Had they already made it into the house?
I couldn’t imagine that to be the case. Either Lisa or Veronica would’ve shot by now. I couldn’t believe that they could’ve been taken by surprise.
I slid down and away just as a number of rounds smacked into the stone wall not far from where my head had just been. Several chips of concrete spattered my head and face, leaving a number of stings and more than one warm trickle in their wakes.
The rounds hadn’t struck the inside wall of the stairs but the outside corner. Which meant they had to come from the tiki bar. It was the only place of cover. That was probably the man who I’d seen climbing the steps. So where was the other guy? Coming up behind me, maybe?
A resounding boom roared out from inside the house. A large caliber weapon. A rifle, not a pistol. I heard a short and gurgling cry from off to my right, and then something heavy tumbling down a set of wooden steps.
Guess that answered that.
“Come on out, pendejo!” I shouted. “You’re all alone!”
Nothing.
I waited for several long moments and listened as hard as I could. A silly notion, of course, but that’s what it felt like. All I could hear was the light breeze rustling the leaves of the three palms in the back yard, an occasional mullet splashing in the water and what I thought was a couple of voices from several houses up the canal talking. I couldn’t hear what they said, just that they were saying something.
Then I heard a window being slid open. This was followed by a curse and then the sound of shoes scraping on concrete. I peeked over the top step again just in time to see a black-clad figure back-pedaling
away from the big grill and toward the far railing. He held his own machine pistol out in front of him.
I squeezed the trigger and sent half a dozen rounds into his body. It jerked and danced in a ludicrous imitation of a bad marionette before jolting sideways and jerking onto the railing. I don’t know if it was just dumb luck or the man had enough left in him to give himself a boost, but the body bent forward over the railing and then continued to topple over, falling head-first into the yard below.
“That all of them?” Lisa called from my left.
“I think so,” I said. “Were only three in the boat… You ladies all right?”
I got to my feet and mounted to the deck. Lisa stepped through the open sliders holding my Winchester, and Veronica followed with her Browning in hand.
“I hit the third guy,” Lisa said, indicating the far end of the pool deck with her rifle.
I nodded and jogged over and looked down. Sure enough, a man lay crumpled at the base of the wide wooden steps that led down to the seawall and dock. He didn’t move, and in the magnified eye of my night vision, I could see a dark splotch on his dark shirt. His pistol lay a dozen feet away, only an inch or two from the edge of the dock.
“Dead?” Veronica asked with admirable equanimity.
“Very,” I said. “One more downstairs… well, two if you count the one that just went over the railing.”
That man was dead also. I dragged all three bodies out onto the dock and heaved them into the cockpit of their boat. Veronica had a pair of kayaks tied up on the seawall, and I got one loose and tied it to a stern cleat on the cigarette. I then fired the big, loud engines up.
“Where are you going?” Lisa asked as she stood on the dock with Veronica.
“Taking out the trash,” I said. “One of you should call the cops. I’m sure they’ll love this…”
“Isn’t there supposed to be a cop watching the house?” Veronica asked.
“Yes there is…” I snapped. “When you call, ask them where the fuck this officer is and why the fuck he or she isn’t here.”
I drove the cigarette around the corner and across toward the other side where the canal bent outward into the pass. I turned sharply toward the Beach of Shell Island and shoved the throttles forward. The big boat rose up and surged forward before very shortly grinding to a solid halt half on and half off the narrow beach. I’d been ready for the sudden stop, but it still nearly pitched me over the windscreen.
I then proceeded to haul the dead men out onto the beach and line them all up. I used my hand to write something in large block letters next to them before climbing back into the boat.
In the small cabin were a set of sheets and towels. I drew out a sheet and opened a floor hatch near the engine compartment. Here I was able to bleed off some fuel onto the fabric. I left the bleed valve open so that gasoline would slowly fill the bilge. I then opened the fuel fill port and fed the sheet down into it. Finally, I found a cigarette lighter in the helm console and leapt back onto the sand.
I untied the kayak and dragged it fifty feet down the beach before jogging back and lighting the overhanging bit of sheet. The fabric went up in a slight whoosh and the flames quickly ate their way up and into the boat as I ran for it.
When I got to the kayak, I dove over it and laid flat on the sand. Behind me, a resounding whump bellowed out, and a bright yellow-white flash lit up the beach and the scrub beyond. I got to my feet and turned to see the boat burning rather nicely. I got into the kayak and paddled the two or three hundred yards back to Veronica’s house. Even as I rounded the corner to get to the dock, I could see the flashing lights of the police vehicles pulling into her driveway.
“Yeah,” I growled. “Now you show up.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind!?” Alex Muñoz railed, his arms thrown wide and his face a mask of disbelief.
To the south, A Bay News 9 helicopter hovered over the now smoldering remains of the cigarette as a team of cops and reporters further off examined the scene I’d left on the small uninhabited spit of land. The searchlight from the helicopter and the spots from the police boat intermingled with the very distant sounds of radios crackling to make what would no doubt be quite the scene on the eleven o’clock news.
“On the contrary, Alex,” I said as I lounged on Veronica’s back deck with a cold Modelo Negro in my hand. “This was quite well-thought through. The more important question, though, is where the exact fuck is this radio car you assigned to protect Mrs. Bradford?”
Lisa and Veronica sat nearby, and another cop, a woman in a crisp pants suit that fit tightly over a somewhat rugged-looking figure, stood near them. The lady cop’s plainish face was framed by a bouncy-looking sandy blonde bob that did little to alleviate her stern expression.
Alex looked taken aback, “I… I don’t know, Scott.”
I looked at the woman and raised my eyebrows.
“Busy on other duties,” The lady cop said sharply. “As I understand it, Mr. Jarvis, you told Alex here that Mrs. Bradford wouldn’t be in town until tomorrow.”
“Possibly tomorrow,” I replied tersely.
“Well, there you go,” The woman, Captain Regina Cutler, replied, spreading her hands and offering a false smile. “Had you communicated with us more precisely, we could’ve offered more assistance.”
“What’re you shittin’ me?” Lisa asked indignantly.
Alex looked chagrinned. Cutler held up a hand for him to be quiet, though. Evidently she had bigger fish to fry.
“Let’s focus on the situation here… Are you telling us that you intentionally drew these men in, murdered them and then left their bodies on that island over there?” Cutler asked, pointing southerly. “And to top it off, set fire to that boat?”
“Yes, Captain,” I replied levelly. “Except the drawing in and murdering part. They brought that on themselves, on account of the fact that it was they who came here with murderous intent.”
Captain Cutler scowled at me in a way that led me to believe she would like nothing better than to slap the cuffs on. She reached into the inside pocket of her blazer and brought out a cigarette and a gold zippo. She lit the butt, replaced the lighter, took a long drag and glared at me, “Do you think this is funny, Mr. Jarvis?”
“No, Captain,” I said coolly, “I do not. I tend to deal with stressful situations with levity. I do not take being attacked by multiple assassins… multiple times… lightly. These men brought this on themselves. They and their boss. That burning boat and those men laid out in a line are a message to him.”
She drew on her pill again and heaved a cloud of smoke out, “Does that include what you wrote in the sand?”
“You bet,” I confirmed.
“That’s pretty goddamned cold,” she said tightly. “’You’re next, Cardoza and yours won’t be so easy.’”
“What would you recommend?” I asked.
“I’d recommend not running around my goddamned city firing off your goddamned gun whenever you goddamned want!” she snapped. “I recommend letting the goddamned police handle the goddamned law enforcement around here! Not some… goddamned… half-cocked private detective!”
Although her anger and attitude was a bit off-putting… I could at least be thankful that she wasn’t Maglashan. I was confident that my wit and charm would eventually win her over.
Yeah sure…
I glowered at her, “I would’ve let the goddamned police do their jobs… had any been around, Captain.”
She only shrugged. This infuriated me, but as I sensed she was intentionally baiting me, I elected not to bite. I drew in a deep breath.
“I am not a half-cocked P.I.,” I stated. “I am fully cocked, Captain. I’m also a Navy O4 and a member of ICE. I have authority and jurisdiction here or wherever I see fit to fire off my goddamned gun.”
“We’ll see about that, pal!” she barked. “That badge you carry is the only reason you’re not in cuffs and headed for a cell right now! But when I talk to your CO or whoeve
r, we’re gonna see just how smart you are then.”
“Captain…” Alex made what was probably a misguided attempt to mollify her.
“Shut your mouth, Alex!” Cutler snapped. “I know you’re friends with this guy, and I don’t want to hear you defend him. For chrissakes! Look out there! We don’t need this kind of shit in this town!”
“I’m sorry our near deaths have discommoded you, Captain,” I said tightly. “Next time we’ll just let the bad guys kill us, okay? Less noisy that way, huh?”
Cutler made a sound deep in her throat, spun on her heel and walked to the other end of the pool, yanking a radio from where it’d been clipped to her belt under the jacket.
“Well, she seems pleasant,” I said.
“And loves you,” Lisa quipped with a wry smile.
“Wow,” Veronica said and shook her head.
“So is every cop in this town a dick?” I asked Alex. “Every detective, anyway? Met some cool patrolmen… but Christ.”
“She’s not somebody to screw with, mijo. Maglashan’s an asshole sometimes, but I can handle him… the captain is another matter,” Alex said wearily. “Any chance this shit is gonna stop soon, Scott?”
“I don’t know, Alex… why don’t we give Cardoza a call and ask him?” I suggested. “My hope is that these events, once shown on the news as I’ve set them up, will give the man pause. I also hope that if, as I suspect, he’s being paid by the person who’s really after Veronica… that this little incident will shake them up, too.”
“I don’t know if we can take any more shaking up,” Alex muttered.
“Hey man,” I replied, feeling mildly irritated, “Veronica is a prominent citizen in this town… so why don’t you ask Captain Sunshine there to assign a squad of men to her? I mean, y’know… actually do it this time.”
Alex smiled sheepishly, “We can’t.”
“Yeah, no cause, huh?” Lisa asked indignantly.
“A matter of logistics,” Alex stated. “We can make certain a car is on the house, though…”
