Godsend 6: All Jokes Aside

by K Elliott

  Three minutes later they were in Travis’ room. Echo closed the door and said, “Strip down to your underwear but move like you got arthritis.”

  “Why you wanna see another man in his underwear? What’s this got to do with the woman in the picture who I don’t even know?” Echo shot at the man’s left forearm.

  “Oh shit!” Travis snatched his arm back. The bullet had penetrated the sleeve of the thick coat but had barely missed his arm. “Chill out, man. I’m taking my shit off.”

  Echo heard a certainly type of knocking at the door. He backed up to it and opened the door for Kiandra.

  She watched Travis undress, and after several seconds, she gathered his clothes and gun and placed them in the bathtub. When she returned, she studied him as he stood near the bed wearing only boxer shorts.

  Echo stood by the door then decided to turn on the flat-panel television.

  She had his ID in her hand. “Is Travis your real name, or is this shit fake?”

  “That’s my name.”

  “You remember a few months ago when your boss raped me after you and his other flunky forced me to go to his room?” “Lady, you got the wrong guy.”

  She stepped back and said, “It’ll come to you in a minute.” Echo walked up to him and unexpectedly drove a knee to the man’s nuts, the force briefly lifting him off his feet.

  Travis coughed and fell to the floor, holding his groin with both hands.

  Echo said, “If you don’t or can’t give me the details about the rape, she’s cutting your dick off—just the head—after I cuff your ass and hold you down. Then, I’mma let you up and force you to stomp the head. We’re gonna repeat the process with your nuts, too.”

  “Alright, I remember. It was at the Gold Creek Inn in Whittier.”

  Chapter 16

  TRAVIS HAD CALLED Avery Ross to his room, another one of Breno’s gun hands. Avery arrived at the door with no coat and no weapon because Travis was supposed to be showing him something he’d found thirty minutes ago. The 26-year-old black man knocked at Travis’ room door and said, “Open the door, fool. I hope you found some pussy.

  Hurry up. It’s cold as shit out here.”

  Echo stopped peeping from the window curtain and stepped over to the door. He turned the door knob then flung the door open, surprising Avery. He shot the man in the stomach. When Avery doubled over in pain, Echo gripped a handful of his small afro and pulled him inside. He closed the door and watched as the man slowly dropped to his knees.

  Travis was a few feet away but looked on silently.

  Echo said, “I got more questions for you, Travis, but I don’t want you to even think about lying.”

  He kicked Avery in the face so hard, the impact actually smashed teeth in and resulted in a broken neck. As the man lay awkwardly Echo looked at Kiandra, but she was still watching Travis at gunpoint. Echo leaned over Avery, pushed the silenced gun barrel in his mouth, and blew the back of his head out.

  Travis turned away.

  Kiandra put the gun to Travis’ head and said, “Look at your boy. You’re a tough-ass Crip with gangster tattoos and a gun. I know damn well you ain’t spooked about a little blood and a dead body.” But there was more than a little blood in the room. A growing puddle. Splatter on the bed spread, two walls, Travis’ face and body, Echo and Kiandra’s clothes.

  Echo said to Travis, “You look like an honest person now. Let’s talk about Breno. Why the fuck is he here at Lake Tahoe with his two main Crip members?”

  “He lost his transporter, so he came here to pick up.” “Pick up what?”

  “Drugs. Ecstasy.”

  Echo said, “Ohhh, so I’m about to stick him for a nice chunk of change?’

  Travis didn’t even want to glance at Avery. “Nah. We met his connect out at Heavenly Mountain yesterday. He’s a big-shot white boy who ski on the slopes there. He came down from Vegas. Breno already got the drugs.”

  “I don’t fuck with drugs. How much he spent on that shit?”

  “About $225,000.”

  “Damn, that’s three Godsend fees.” Echo looked at Kiandra. “You want the drugs?”

  She said, “Down to the last milligram. Sheree can find a buyer for all of it at once.”

  Echo said to Travis, “Okay. This is your lucky day. Get us Breno and you get to live. How do you get him to his room without making him suspicious?”

  “I can’t. He won’t leave his room unless me and Avery are with him, so if I try to get him he’ll know something ain’t right and you’ll end up killing me.”

  Kiandra said, “His cell phone is in his girlfriend’s name, but did she come here with him?”

  “Nah. Just the three of us in two different cars.” She said, “The drugs are in the car or in his room?” “With him in a blue and gray duffle bag.”

  Echo said, “What reason would you have to visit him this early in the morning?”

  Travis looked at his watch. “He sent me to get some breakfast for him, but he’s gonna expect me to call him on my way back. He’ll wanna know if I noticed anything that looks like the feds are paying attention.”

  Chapter 17

  BRENO RILEY LAY IN BED toward the food end, waiting for Travis to return with breakfast. Too paranoid to listen to the television or radio, he wasn’t really enjoying his stay in South Lake Tahoe. But then again, this wasn’t a vacation or a leisure trip. He believed he had slipped the DEA’s watch zone to make a pickup, but he was still suspicious of everything and everybody.

  Breno was a 30-year-old handsome black man with low waves in his head. A dedicated Crip member and leader in the Whittier area. Six-six in height, 230 pounds, armed and extremely dangerous. He had a Mac-10 machine gun and a Beretta 9mm handgun in the room with him, and not just because he had a black duffle bag full of drugs next to his bed.

  His cell phone rang. He picked his Blackberry up from the floor, glanced at the screen, then answered it. “What’s the deal, Trav?”

  Travis said, “I just picked your food up. Two scrambled eggs, no bacon, tater tots, raw berries, and a chicken and cheese croissant.” Breno was on his feet now, heart pounding in his chest. He’d ordered pancakes and sausage, but he was very much familiar with Travis’ menu. He said, “Good looking out.”

  Travis said, “Oh, yeah, and some orange juice.” Echo said to Travis, “Get up. Let’s go.”

  Kiandra watched Travis get up from the floor of his motel room. She was thinking about something.

  Echo was near the door again. “When we get to Breno’s door, I want you to—”

  Kiandra held up a hand. “Wait a minute. We just got played.” Echo said, “Played how?”

  “He called back Breno’s order and said ‘no bacon.’ That doesn’t make sense. If Breno didn’t order bacon why would be tell Breno he didn’t get bacon?”

  Echo shrugged. “You think he was talking in code?”

  “Possibly. And another thing: Travis said Breno will want to know if he spotted any signs of the feds. Breno didn’t ask him anything and you know why? Because I’m sure Travis told him everything he needed to know.”

  Echo looked at Travis. “That’s a muthafuckin good point. What the fuck did you tell Breno?”

  Travis stared at Echo, stalling for time, knowing the man had no intentions of letting him live.

  Kiandra suddenly poked him in the mouth with the tip of her silencer busting a lip and loosening three teeth. When he stumbled two steps backwards, she said, “This is going to be a slow death.” She aimed at his crotch area and said, “Last chance.”

  Travis said, “I told Breno that two people, not the police, got gats and gonna rob him. Look for a bitch and a serious nigga. And as for the orange juice, I was telling him to pull an OJ and run. Like this.” He turned away from her and dashed off as fast as he could toward a wall, throwing himself into it, shoulder first, damn near entering the adjacent room.

  Even though a woman in the next room began screaming, Kiandra rushed up to Travis and unloaded s
even shots in the sneaky bastard.

  Echo said to Kiandra, “Get your ass out of here.” He slipped on his skully knit cap and pulled it down to his eyes. “Wait for me at the last place we filled up for gas. I’m going after Breno’s ass. If I don’t show up an hour after you get there, keep it moving and forget about me. I’m about to draw some attention, so make sure you move like a scared tourist.”

  Chapter 18

  ECHO RAN DOWN the outdoor stairs and reached the second floor. He ran up to Room 241, elbowed the window in and snatched the curtains down. He fired two shots inside but quickly realized that Breno was gone. No reason to think he’d be in the bathroom after the warning Travis had given him. Echo looked around and noticed maybe twelve people watching him now. His gun was still silenced, so they’d obviously heard the window breaking; some had even heard the commotion and the screaming that had been on the third floor.

  Kiandra eased from the room and headed for the stairs.

  Echo knew where Breno had parked and what he had driven. Travis said they had traveled in two cars, but Echo had flattened two tires on Breno’s girlfriend’s car earlier this morning. What the fuck could Breno be driving now?

  Echo reached the other side of the motel, fleeting down the stairs to the first floor, and sprinted to the side parking lot. Breno’s car was still there, and the footprints in the snow told Echo that Breno had recently been as far as the driver’s door and had kept going in another direction, behind the hotel and toward the organized line of trees. Echo followed the tracks, hauling ass, gun still in his hand. Through the trees he could see the Fat Pond Cafe, and several other commercial establishments, on Lake Tahoe Boulevard. The gigantic lake was on the other side of the boulevard.

  A light snow was coming down as Echo’s buckskin Polo boots impressed a new set of tracks. When he reached the other side of the trees Breno’s tracks were still visible, but Echo stopped in the rear parking lot of the café and looked around. To his far right he saw a black

  1999 Jeep Grand Cherokee leaving the lot. The tires has no chains and occasionally they would slip and spin in the snow. The driver was a black man, but Echo couldn’t tell if he was Breno.

  Then Echo noticed something as he began to hear police sirens maybe a mile away. The driver’s window was down in the Cherokee, which made no sense during snow flurries and forty-degree weather. Unless the window was stuck or had been recently broken. Echo ran to catch up with the Cherokee but soon saw that he was losing the race. He stopped and thought about shooting at the vehicle, knowing that that wouldn’t stop a damn thing sixty years ahead and counting.

  Echo turned around and ran up to the front end of a parked Nissan Pathfinder SUV. An elderly white man was in the driver’s seat, about to pull out. Echo rushed around to the front passenger’s side and aimed his gun at the driver as he pulled on the door handle.

  Locked.

  Echo said, “Open the door or take a head shot.”

  The 68-year-old slender man unlocked the door from the driver’s side.

  Echo jumped in and closed the door. “There’s a black Cherokee Jeep up ahead. Catch up with it.”

  The old man eased the Pathfinder out of the parking lot then picked up speed. He said, “I can get out and let you drive if you want.”

  “You’re doing fine. I might need to use my right hand when you catch that Cherokee. If I put you out, you’ll call the cops and they’ll look for this vehicle sooner that I want them to.”

  The old man was now speeding down Lake Tahoe Boulevard, at least as fast as possible under the snowy conditions. The main roads had been cleared starting at 5:45 this morning, but the light snow was starting to add up to a thin blanket. “My name’s Jacob Truesdale. I don’t suppose you wanna tell me yours.”

  Echo said, “I’ll call you Old Man and you can call me Young Fella. Now switch lanes and get behind that van.”

  Chapter 19

  THE CHEROKEE was coming to a stop at a traffic light ahead. Breno was relieved. He’d lost the black man who was running after the Cherokee on foot, but he knew he still had problems. Whittier, California, was more than three hundred miles away, and he couldn’t risk driving a hot-wired vehicle that far with a duffle bag full of x-pills. Not only that, the cold air whipping through the broken driver’s window would become unbearable.

  He stopped for the light and began wiping more broken glass bits from his seat. He looked up and spotted the black man again, four vehicles back, on foot again and trying to creep up to the Cherokee. Breno panicked and looked for a gap to drive through, but the vehicles ahead make it impossible. He grabbed the black duffle bag and the Mac-10, turned in his seat and sprayed the back window of the Cherokee with bullets, piercing windows and grills on two other vehicles and making Echo disappear.

  Echo duck-walked around the shot-up van then saw Breno running toward the intersection with a gun and a duffle bag. He gave chase and thought about lying-ass Travis and his claim that the bag was blue and gray. Echo fired four silenced shots as Breno was swinging the Mac-10 around to spray more bullets.

  Breno was hit in his lower back and leg, and as he was falling to the street a burst of his rounds found their way into the windshield of a Camaro, sending its three occupants ducking out of view.

  Echo fired six more shots as he closed in on Breno, hitting him four more times. Cars were sliding to a stop, and sirens had grown much louder now. Several spectators were snapping pictures and video recording the scene.

  When Echo caught up with Breno, he could hear the labor in his breathing, but otherwise Bruno wasn’t moving. “Your first-class trip to hell is paid for by the woman you raped at the Gold Creek Inn.” He snatched the duffle bag from Breno’s weakening grip. “She was hoping I kill you, and this is how I keep hope alive.” Echo fired a single shot to Breno’s forehead at point-blank range. People screamed, car horns blared, sirens were only a block away, and Echo was now sprinting toward the tree line again.

  Less than a minute later he was in the rear parking lot of the Genuine Platter on Emerald Bay Road, a half mole down the road from the Tahoe Grove Inn. He approached a pregnant white woman who was getting out of her Honda pilot. The SUV had tire chains and a California license plate. He showed her a gun before she could even speak to him.

  “I need a driver who wants to live. Eighty miles south and you drive away safely; no harm to you or the baby. I’ll be in the backseat area, and if we get stopped by the police, or you try to jump out and run, you’ll never meet your unborn.”

  The woman got back inside and unlocked the rear passenger’s door without saying a word. She was only six months pregnant and desperately wanted a child at age twenty-nine.

  Echo got in the back, closed the door, and said, “Let’s go. Highway

  89 South to Interstate 395 South, and my ride ends in Walker.” When the woman started the vehicle and began driving, Echo glanced inside the duffel bag and saw two stacks of money. He guessed it to be about four grand, all twenties. He could feel the x-pills, which were concealed inside a black plastic bag within the duffle bag. Echo threw a stack of money up front to the passenger’s seat and said, “My gift, since I won’t be able to make it to the baby shower.”

  Chapter 20

  WHEN THE HONDA PILOT was out of sight, Echo jumped inside the Durango with Kiandra.

  She smiled at him, leaned over from the driver’s seat, and kissed him. “You don’t know how glad I am to see you.”

  “You can prove it later.” He began removing his knit cap and clear latex gloves. “How long you been waiting?”

  She began driving. “Only twenty-five minutes. I never went inside the store, and I’m not on camera.

  Echo removed a cell phone from his coat pocket and broke the thing in half with his bare hands. He had taken it from the woman in the Honda before sending her back up North.

  Kiandra said, “I guess you got him because I see a duffle bag, but I thought it was supposed to be blue and gray.”

  “Travis li
ed. Remind me to pull that magnetic license plate off in the next city.” He was about to recline in his seat when his own Blackberry rang. He pulled it out of the console and answered it. “Brian, what’s up?”

  “Where the fuck you been? I know you ain’t just now waking up.”

  “Had to run a little errand for Kiandra.” “You won’t believe where I’m at.”

  Echo said, “Tell me so I can take my ass to sleep. I been up all night.”

  “Probably fucking Kiandra. I’m in New York. Sheree found Ramona Hartley.” “How?”

  “Internet search. She only found her because two weeks ago Ramona got married to another woman under New York’s same sex marriage laws. I talked to Ramona, and she said she was afraid of how her family and friends would feel about her, which is why she didn’t tell them that she was attracted to women. She ran away with Jessica Prowley and changed her name later.”

  Echo said, “Goddamn lesbians are everywhere nowadays.”

  Kiandra looked at him and blew a kiss.

  “The case is still considered solved, right?’ We still get the full payment?” Echo said.

  “Damn right.”

  “Good. I guess that means I ain’t got to step off in Shotglass’ ass.” Brian laughed. “If only he knew. We still going to his Where Was I? concert?’

  “I don’t see why not. The tickets are paid for.” The conversation lingered another minute then Echo ended the call. He said to Kiandra, “Bring your girlfriend to my room tomorrow. It’s time to pay on your bill.”

  She said, “Okay, and while I’m at it I wanna put about ten thousand fucks in the bank with you.”

  He smiled the lowered his window and tossed the broken cell phone. “All jokes aside, I know I was gonna turn your ass out.”