“You got that right!” Steel yelled.
The gunman was shocked at the sight of Steel suddenly standing up and throwing something. Before he realized what was happening, the point of the rail impacted into his left shoulder, making him turn as he fired. The spray of bullets swept up the room towards the boss.
De Torres’s large face dropped as he realized the oncoming hail of hot brass was heading his way. He made for the door but was too late, as one of the projectiles found its mark and blew a hole in his leg. The pain shot though his body but he grabbed on to the door frame to stabilize himself and, with a trail of fresh blood marking his way, he managed to escape.
Steel smirked to himself as he watched the large man limp away. That should slow him down, he thought.
Then, apparently from nowhere, a hook attached to a long steel cable came crashing down in front of the detective, making him leap backwards. The man who’d thrown it was large and muscular, and covered with tattoos, his shaven head blue with regret. He was grinning like a maniac.
As Steel observed the psycho with the hook and cable, he couldn’t help notice his oversized stubble-covered jaw.
The hook impacted again, this time to the side of the detective. Steel rolled out of the way. The man swung the steel cable above his head, picking his target. Steel stood up and the cable and hook flew towards him. As Steel ducked the man saw with horror the blades of the giant cooling fans behind them spinning fast. There was a load clank as the hook and metal rope was caught up in the fast-spinning wheel. As Steel’s attacker looked on, the trail of cable quickly snaked its way towards the turbine only for him to then remember he had tied it around his ankle.
He was ripped forward, screaming as he went, trying to unravel the knot he had made to secure the weapon to him. The man slid closer and closer to his fate, when suddenly a mass of metal and wood came crashing down, as the stacked-up cargo crates to his front were tipped over.
To his relief, the crates were blocking his way to certain doom. As he took a breath, a figure leapt upon him, knocking him out.
John Steel had to find a way out and fast. His quarry was getting away and he had questions he wanted to ask. He ran for the door De Torre had escaped through, running across the body-ridden floor. But he suddenly stopped and started to back off as a massive hulk of a man stood in his path. The hulk was bald-headed
With some sort of tribal tattoo covering one side of his face, he was a mix of flab and muscle and stood around six-foot nine inches tall. But Steel was more concerned in the fire axe he held.
The Englishman stood in the middle of the room semi-crouched, ready for anything, except for the speed with which the monster came at him, swinging the red fire axe. Steel managed to roll out of the way just in time to avoid a blow that could have split him straight down the middle; sparks flew from the concrete as the axe impacted.
I thought this was too easy, Steel thought to himself. The huge man turned and came forwards once more. Steel ran to the side, where there was plenty of cover, but he didn’t have time for this skirmish. Quickly he looked round and found a staircase leading upwards to a gantry next to the dirty windows. The swoosh of metal slicing air was followed by the clang of metal against metal. Steel dropped to the ground, narrowly evading another killer blow. The beast looked down to see Steel’s boot kicking him full force into his groin area, but he just smiled at Steel and swung the axe downwards. There were more sparks as Steel made a backward roll, again narrowly being missed by the razor-sharp axe blade.
He made his way to the other side of the room, throwing bits of heavy metal at his pursuer, but the only effect this had was to show Steel that hand-to-hand combat was definitely out of the question.
The detective stood with his back against a wooden pillar; he was sucking in air, his hands on his knees. The man came up slowly, savoring the seconds before he put him down, a large grin across his massive face. Grasping the axe’s handle in both hands he swung with all of his might, always keeping Steel in view. A massive crash filled the room as the axe splintered and smashed the wooden beam, which acted as one of the supports holding some sheet metal on which stood around fifteen steel barrels. The man screamed and covered his face as he was suddenly buried under a mass of metal and wood.
“Smashing,” Steel said to himself with a grin.
Picking himself up, Steel headed for the stairwell, and the old metal gave a tinny sound as he ran up towards one of the dirty windows. The building estate was large and mostly disused: rows and rows of hangars and warehouses stood lined up, only broken by the odd path for vehicle access. A large man limped his way towards a warehouse with a faded green door. He was panting heavily, and then stopped to get his breath. Sal De Torre had heard the crash, and reasoned that maybe his large henchman had disposed of Steel, yes, and that was the nose. He savored the image of Steel being broken apart, then split in two. He smiled to himself. However, his joy did not last as he witnessed one of the upper level windows being smashed, allowing Steel to get out.
“Shit, shit!” he said, panicking as he limped towards his goal. Reaching the door he swung it open. The metal door creaked and scraped on the concrete floor, and slamming it shut behind him he looked for old desks and lockers, anything to make a barricade. Inside the room he’d found it was dimly lit, and the only source of light came from the filthy skylight above him. It was a perfect hiding place, filled with shadows and large empty storage crates. He would be safe for now.
As Steel broke free from the building, he stepped out in time to see his quarry disappear into a building across from where he stood. Stopping for a moment to get his bearings, Steel made a plan of action, taking note of possible dangers and ambush points, and, as he surveyed the ground, he saw something that made him smile.
Making his way to the roof by means of some old stacked-up crates he found a quick way down. A telephone cable ran from the tower behind him to the building across the way, and, jumping down again, he found some chain. That will do nicely, he thought with a grin. Going back to the cable, he threw the chain over, then slid down. A trail of orange sparks followed him until he dropped down and rolled behind the wall.
He stole a look at the building that Sal had gone into. There were no guards outside, and none on the roof. This was too easy. Moving from cover to cover he made his way down past the building to set things in motion.
It seemed like hours that Sal had been waiting in the safety of the building, and he began to feel anxious.
“He is playing with me, he thinks I will come out first but I have news for him,” he thought, laughing to himself.
However, he knew he couldn’t last long in there: something would have to happen soon.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The sound echoed through the small storage room in which Sal De Torre was hiding. Had Steel found him, he wondered? Sal found an old shovel and grasped the handle and held it as if he was playing baseball.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Again, the door shook with every impact,
“OK, you bastard, I’m ready for you,” he said under his breath, panicking as sweat poured from his forehead. He had just seen Detective Steel take a team of his men apart while handcuffed. He didn’t dare to think what he might do free-handed.
“Boss, boss you in there?”
Sal’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of the man’s voice.
“Tony, is that you?”
“Yeh, I got Kenny here as well.”
The boss smiled. Good, he thought with relief. They could finally get the hell out of there.
He threw the barricade out of the way and ripped open the door. Before him his two men stood there, battered and bruised, but alive.
“Come on, let’s get the hell out of here before that psycho cop comes back,” said Sal, ignoring the arguments from his boys. They saw their black saloon waiting for them, and it was the best sight Sal had seen for a long time, and leaping into the driver’s seat, Tony turned the key to start the engin
e, but nothing happened.
“What’s wrong?” asked Sal, looking round for any sign of Steel.
“Damn thing won’t start,” said Tony in a panic. Both men looked at each other, then they noticed Kenny on the floor, pointing out of the side window. As they turned to look what the fuss was about the side windows exploded inwards and the whole car was pushed sideways.
“What the f—” Tony nearly finished the sentence before realizing that the car was being lifted.
Steel sat in the cab of the large forklift and had a satisfied grin on his face. To his amusement he could see the men being thrown about inside the car. One of the guys was trying to get out of the other door.
“Now, now we are just getting started,” Steel said loudly and then swerving, he rammed the car into the corner of a building. , now completely sealed in he made his way forward.
Sal and the others were battered and scratched, glass and bits of masonry filled the car.
“Where the fuck are we going, boss?” screamed Tony over the din of the forklift’s engine.
“I don’t know but it can’t be good, the guy is fucking nuts.”
With a crash, the car was being tipped onto its roof. They came to a stop, and the sudden silence cut through the air.
“OK, boys let’s get out of here before that whack job comes back,” said Sal, but he spoke too soon, as a shadow fell across the tarmac in front of them.
“Sal De Torre, good morning.” Steel said, sounding amused.
“Screw you!” said Sal spitting the words.
Steel came and knelt down in front of them.
“OK, so where were we? Oh yes, where is Santini?”
“I don’t know, plus I wouldn’t tell anyway. So go on, cop, lock me up!”
“See, that’s a very tempting idea, but not really effective.” Steel answered.
Sal was now getting scared. This was no ordinary cop, he was something else. He felt it, and it didn’t feel good. Steel got up and walked away. The men let out the breath of anticipation they had been holding.
“What the hell is that noise?” asked Kenny, as the faint sound of an engine, possibly from a rig, was getting closer. Then the car shook with impact as Steel, who was sat in a semi, ploughed into the engine side of the car and was pushing it in to another. There were two semis nose-to-nose with the saloon car in between them, on its roof. The men screamed for their lives at the sound of metal and plastic being compressed. Then there was silence.
“OK, as I was saying, where is Santini?” Steel had lost his smile and his patience.
“I don’t know, I swear, nobody does.” Sal was begging, his hands clenched together so tightly his knuckles were white.
l“How does he contact you?”
“Different ways, note under doors, under windshield wipers always, but never by phone.”
Steel smiled slightly, smart boy, he thought.
“You don’t find him, see,” Sal said, the colour returning to his face.
“He finds you.”
“Not if I find him first.”
And with that, John Steel was gone.
Sal and the others scrambled to get out before the wailing sirens of the cop cars got there.
“What a fucking day,” Sal thought as they made it out of the car.
THIRTY-THREE
Monday morning brought in a new sunrise to a new day and Detective Sam McCall was hoping for a fresh lead on the killer. McCall sat her desk reading some reports when Steel walked in. Even she had to admit he looked good in the black suit, with its strange three-quarter length jacket that almost hid the shiny black silk shirt, that had the top few buttons undone.
She tried to pretend she hadn’t seen him and hoped she had not had her mouth open in surprise. From behind him came a wolf whistle and he just raised his hand to thank his unknown admirer.
“Morning,” she said, still burying her head in the paperwork,
“Good morning. And how was your weekend?” he asked, clearly happy with himself.
“It was good thanks, I went to see my mom,” she replied, somewhat surprised at his interest.”And yours? Did you do anything for fun or were you just chasing bad guys?” she giggled at her joke.
“No, but it was very positive. I tracked down some old friends, got tied up with them all morning but then they had to go—I guess they had a pressing engagement,” he smiled, at the thought of what had really happened.
McCall flashed him a concerned look, not really wanting to know what he was talking about, but she had the feeling that either way it could not be good.
Tony and Tooms came in, their expressions spoke volumes, suggesting that their weekends had not been successful.
“Hi guys, what’s up?” she asked, not really wanting to hear of any problems until at least midday.
“While you were off for the weekend we got a nasty one.” Tooms’s face screwed up at the thought. He held the file close to his chest as McCall reached for it, a puzzled look crossing her face,
“Why didn’t anybody say we got a case?” she asked.
“Cause we got assigned the case. Sorry, the boss said you two would be too close to this one.”
Now she really was puzzled and annoyed. “What do you mean, close to it?” she asked, clearly put out.
“It was your boy from the theatre that Tarzan here decided to put into hospital after using him for a crash mat.”
“Yes, what about him?” asked McCall, a terrible feeling creeping over her as she looked at Steel.
“Someone went to pay him a visit,” Tony said, sounding angry,
“Cool. So who was it and did we get a name on them?” asked Steel, looking excited.
“No, not really. Whoever it was crept in like a ghost and cut him up pretty good.” Tony said, looking as if the memory made him nauseous.
“OK, not cool. But how did it happen? There were cops on the door, right?” Steel said in surprise.
“Like a ghost, you said?” McCall commented. “So what did you do this weekend, Steel?” Her eyes were burning with suspicion.
“Come on,” Steel replied, resenting the implication. “You can’t be serious! You don’t think I went in and stabbed the silly bastard, do you?”
“Look, Friday I was playing poker with some friends.” Steel said at last.
“I bet you’re good at that, because you don’t give anything away, do you?” She taunted him. Her voice was cold and hard. Ever since the theatre incident she’d begun to get good vibes about him but now, well, she had no idea what to think.
McCall grabbed her cup and made for the coffee room, and Tooms and Tony followed, leaving John Steel behind.
“So what did you find out about him?” She asked Tooms as he sat on the edge of the table while the others gathered round.
“Well, I spoke to my buddy from the SEALs and he said that our boy there was attached to whatever team was going out. They classed him as a ‘lone wolf’, and he was real good at making their job easier. He mainly specialized in hostage rescue. He would go in before a building was going to be stormed, and even the odds or get intelligence. They used to call him ‘The phoenix’, ‘cause nothing could put him down.” The room went quiet as they absorbed the revelation.
“OK, so he was in the military,” McCall sounded almost disappointed he had a past.
“Nice, now we have a lead. What else did he say?” Tooms looked round making sure they were not been heard.
“If he is on your side you can walk away from pretty much anything.”
“And if you’re on the other side?” asked Tony.
Tooms just gave him a ‘Don’t go there’ look.
“And before that?” she asked confidently.
“Nothing. Officially the man didn’t exist till he got to the TEAMS, then after an incident he fell off the world again until now.” They watched Steel looking at the information board and flicking through notes.
“Oh yeh, you know who he is really friendly with?” Tooms said, getting so
me pictures out.
McCall shrugged. “No, who?”
He passed the photos across and McCall and Tony looked. “The mayor, Steel’s buddy is the mayor.”
“OK, we keep this to ourselves but if it becomes a problem we see the Captain,” She told them. They all nodded in agreement. Tooms then pulled out a bit of paper and waved it around. McCall looked at him warily, unprepared for any more surprises.
“What’s this now?” she asked, the strain of recent days starting to show in her voice.
“It’s an address,” said Tooms, with a smug smile.
“Is it a witness?” McCall asked.
Tooms shook his head.
“So whose address is it? Steel’s?” Tony seemed almost excited at the prospect of knowing where this man lived. Tony had many images in his head of where John Steel lived, but he was also starting to feel a bit treacherous to be investigating another cop, even one as strange as Steel.
“We I guess we all have somewhere to live, but most of us don’t have an apartment on Central Park West.”
The other two detectives’ mouths dropped open.
“He lives on Central Park West?” repeated McCall.
Tooms nodded.
“How the hell can he afford a place there?” Now she was mad, McCall could feel the anger begin to swell within her. Was he a hit man or something? All sorts of weird ideas began to fill her head.
She turned to look towards the information board, where Steel had been moments earlier, but he’d gone. Had he caught on to the fact they were investigating his life, she wondered? She moved quickly out of the room just in time to catch Officer Brenda Grant walking past.
“Where is Detective Steel?” McCall asked urgently, surprising the female officer.
“Don’t really know, he got a call from downstairs and shot off. He seemed quite upset.” Officer Grant shrugged and headed towards the filing room.
McCall waved the others to follow and ran to the ground floor using the stairs. “Had somewhere to go, did he?” She said to herself. She had the address, which was in Harlem, so taking both cars they raced there to confront Steel about what the hell was going on.
Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix Page 14
