USA, Inc. (A Mike Wardman Novel: Book 1)

by Larry Kahaner

  They shook hands and Kane left the plane grinning. He shot a finger at his driver, Bobby, who started the car’s engine.

  “Let’s take a ride to the Bay, Bobby,” Kane said as he slid into his seat. “I want to look at the water.”

  Chapter 57

  Through the thick woods, Mike and Al could see the lights of Kane’s mansion a few hundred feet away. They watched as two security guards strolled past each other, rifles perched on their hips, scanning the area for intruders. The ground smelled damp and the air was cool.

  Mike checked the GPS coordinates on his phone. “This is it,” he whispered, his breath turning to fog.

  Al shivered when he saw the concrete slab.

  “They purposely blocked the entrance,” Mike said.

  “At least we know we’re in the right place. What now?”

  “We dig.” Mike removed the folding shovel from his backpack. “You keep an eye on our friends.”

  Mike began shoveling dirt away from the edges of the five-foot-square chunk of concrete. Every few minutes, he would feel a tap on his back, indicating that the guards were close enough to hear the scrapings. Mike would pause, and he and Al would lie flat until it was clear.

  They did this dance for almost an hour, until Mike felt a spurt of cool tunnel air on his sweaty face. He heard dirt from the side of the hole drop into the opening, a signal that he had broken through.

  Mike poked his arm and head into the hole and clicked the flashlight. He could see water dripping from the ceiling, but the tunnel looked intact and passable.

  He lowered himself down and sunk into several inches of mud and water. Al followed, and they slogged toward the house in a crouch. Each footstep sucked them down.

  Their lights revealed wooden slats on the walls and ceiling with water and mud oozing through the spaces. Some timbers bulged. Other pieces were cracked, rotten, or missing.

  As they neared the house, they saw several rats swimming around their feet. Al closed his eyes and shook his head.

  Mike stopped dead as his beam revealed a concrete wall in front of them.

  “Are you kidding me?” Al whispered.

  “They blocked off this end of the tunnel, too,” Mike said.

  He rubbed his chin, which deposited a wide smear of mud. He stuck his fingers around the edge of the slab and pushed through the soft mud until he could feel the other side. He did the same to the top of the concrete square. “It’s like the other one. About four inches thick.”

  “What do we do?”

  “We can’t dig around it. The walls are too weak and it’ll take too long.” He glanced at his watch. “The only thing we can do is try to pull it down and pray that the roof doesn’t collapse once it’s gone.”

  “In for a penny,” Al said.

  “I’m really glad the vet worked on your shoulder.”

  Al snorted. “How do we do this?”

  “If we dig a trough at the bottom, we might be able to pull it towards us, shimmy it down the walls, then lay it down flat.”

  Without responding, Al began digging with his hands, throwing the mud over his shoulder as he went. Mike kept an eye on the ceiling. As Al dug, the heavy slab began to slide. Al stopped, watched it move two inches lower, then continued to dig, this time further from the bottom. “It’s working,” he said.

  Mike pulled some boards from the wall, near the floor, and put one flat on the ceiling. He bolstered it with two timbers that he stabbed upright underneath.

  Without warning, the slab slid down quickly, and they both jumped back to keep from getting their feet crushed. The concrete hunk made a splash as it hit the water and drenched them both. Mike wiped his face and checked the ceiling. It was holding.

  They both stepped over the downed slab and moved further along the tunnel.

  “We’re very close,” Mike whispered.

  The water got deeper and the mud thicker. Faint streams of light shone through seams in the wallboard.

  “That’s got to be the safe room.”

  “But they didn’t have wallboard in those days,” said Al.

  “I know. It was probably a door at one time, but they replaced it with wallboard when they put in the concrete block,” Mike said. “Lucky for us.”

  As they moved closer, they heard voices. They couldn’t make out any words until they were within inches of the wall and pressed their ears to it.

  “It’s simple,” they heard the man say. “Your friends have the statue, and I have you. I know that they’ll come for you, and when they do, it will be one big party.”

  “How do you know they won’t just abandon me?”

  “A cop knows these things. What they don’t know is that they won’t make it anywhere near the house without us seeing them first. They fooled us once with that underwater entry. Pretty clever, I have to admit. But the premises are locked down tight.”

  Mike and Al heard chair legs scrape along the floor then stop.

  “I’ll be sitting here with you until they come, not three feet away. And you see this?” the man said loudly. A shotgun clamped shut. “We’ll both be ready for them.”

  Chapter 58

  Mike and Al sat in the muddy water. Pinpricks of light coming through the wallboard lit their features, illuminating enough for each to see the other’s tired and dirty face. The person they were trying to save was only inches away. So was the man with a shotgun, and all they could do was wait.

  Mike moved closer to Al and whispered, “He won’t kill us.”

  “What?”

  “He won’t kill us. He wants the statue, and if he kills us, he won’t get it.”

  “What’s his plan?”

  “He’ll probably just kill one of us,” Mike said.

  Al was about to rub his face, but saw the grime on his hands and quickly put them down.

  “You know, to scare the other one into telling where the statue is,” Mike added. “It’s a strong technique. Shows that you mean business. Usually works.”

  Al giggled, then saw that Mike’s expression stayed the same. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Oh yeah. But don’t worry. It probably won’t come to that.”

  They sat without talking, trying to hear anything from the room. It was quiet.

  Mike took out his knife. “When we get the chance, I’ll score a hole in the wallboard. That will cut the paper on this side, and we should be able to kick it in without too much trouble.”

  “How will we do that with him there?” Al said, stabbing his thumb in the direction of the room.

  “We just wait till he leaves. Everyone has to go to the bathroom. Let’s hope he’s drinking lots of water.”

  Both men sat with their backs against the tunnel walls in the semidarkness, each trying to find their own most comfortable position. Al closed his eyes, hoping to dream of the outside, when a large rat climbed onto his lap and raised its head, nose twitching, looking directly into his face.

  Mike thrust his open hand against his comrade’s mouth. His other hand was a blur as he plucked the rat and with the same sweeping motion and tossed it down the tunnel. As Mike turned back to Al, he spotted a black rat snake skimming the water, heading for the rodent’s landing spot. He didn’t mention this to Al.

  They sat in the same stance for more than hour until they heard a voice.

  “I’m going to the can. I know you’ll be here when I get back.”

  They heard a door slam and lock.

  “Let’s go,” Mike said. He worked his knife quickly into a rectangle shape and kicked in the wallboard. It gave way easily, leaving pieces of paper and gypsum hunks hanging from the rest of the wall. Dust filled the area as Mike burst into the room.

  He spotted Evelyn sitting on the bed where Hicks had moved her.

  “Mike! Al!”

  Mike grabbed her hand and tried to pull her up but her other hand was cuffed to the bedrail.

  “Al, bolt the door!” he yelled.

  As soon as Al slipped the deadbo
lt, they heard banging on the door.

  “Get away from the door!” Mike screamed to Al, only a split second before a shotgun blast blew a ragged hole in the wood. Mike fired several rounds blindly through the opening and heard a cry.

  Al peeked out. “I don’t see anyone.”

  Mike found his handcuff keys and freed Evelyn.

  “Your keys work on his handcuffs?” Evelyn said.

  “They’re universal,” said Mike. “Don’t tell anyone.” He motioned for Al to help him topple several tall metal shelves in front of the door. “This will slow them down.”

  He led Evelyn and Al back through the wallboard opening, and they ran through the tunnel. When they reached the concrete slab on the ground, they heard footsteps splashing behind them.

  “They’re right behind us,” Mike said, out of breath. “You two go. I’ll catch up.”

  Evelyn looked at Mike and started to cry.

  “Go, go. I’ll be fine.” He signaled to Al, who pulled Evelyn along. Mike watched the beam from Al’s flashlight hop down the tunnel.

  Mike saw a gun flash about twenty feet away and instinctively went flat into the mud. He turned off his light and felt around in the pitch darkness for the two timbers he had used to bolster the ceiling. He yanked them out, waiting for the ceiling to crash down.

  Nothing.

  The steps were getting closer. Quieter, more measured.

  “I know you’re there,” the voice said.

  “Is that you, Hicks?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. I don’t give a fuck about you, the girl, or your dumbass pal. All I want is the statue. Just tell me where it is, and we can all go home.”

  “Why would you believe me if I told you?” Mike said, inching up the side of the wall, trying to maintain a flat profile. His words echoed in the darkness.

  Mike found his shovel and unfolded it as quietly as he could. He stood, but couldn’t see anything. He felt around for the slat he had placed against the ceiling. It was still there.

  “Okay, Hicks. You win. I’m coming toward you. Don’t shoot.”

  Just as Hick’s illuminated his flashlight, Mike thrust the point of the spade into the ceiling above the wood and pulled down as hard as he could.

  “What the—?” Hicks fired off a shot, but it was lost in the mud and rock that came tumbling down in torrents from the ceiling. A wall of dirt now separated them. As Mike bolted through the tunnel, he heard even more debris falling behind him, splashing the water. He hurried toward the opening as the entire passage came crashing down.

  Mike let out a deep breath as he hoisted himself out of the hole. When he reached the outside, he saw the trees once again. He smelled the fresh air. Al and Evelyn were standing on the grass, dirty and exhausted, but safe.

  A gun clicked behind him.

  Mike didn’t turn around. “This is really getting silly, don’t you think, Wally?”

  Chapter 59

  “I really have to thank you, Mike,” Hearst said, pointing his finger at Hicks’s arm, which had made it into the library. The rest of him lay sprawled out in the hall. Hearst kept his gun trained on the muddy trio while he used his foot to push the arm out of the room.

  “There. Now we don’t have to look at it.” He returned to his chair while Evelyn, Al, and Mike sat tightly together on the couch.

  “Why did you kill Hicks?” Mike asked.

  “I want his job. He makes three times what I make at the Bureau. We’ve been doing wet work for Kane’s company for years, and I was the go-between. You know that. Now, I want to make some real money heading up Kane’s security company.”

  “Does Kane know what a fuckup you really are?” Mike asked.

  Hearst laughed. “If you think you can rile me, Mike, you’re wrong. I’m in the catbird seat here. All I have to do is turn you over to the authorities, let Kane heap praise on me for saving his mansion from three … whatever you are. And I’m in.”

  Hearst reached for his phone and dialed 911. “Yes, I’d like to report—”

  “What about Kane’s statue worth forty mill?” Mike interrupted.

  “Just a minute, operator. The what?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “Sorry, operator. I’ve made an error. This is Wallace Hearst, FBI Special Agent. We will not need assistance after all.”

  Mike sat back and clasped his hands.

  “What’s this about a statue?”

  “Kane had a valuable statue that was stolen from this very room several days ago.”

  “And who stole it?”

  Mike looked at the other two and smiled. “We did.”

  “And why would you do that?”

  “That’s a long story,” Mike said. “I really don’t want to get into it.”

  “He’s being modest,” Al said. “We traveled underwater. It was quite the heist.”

  Hearst squinted his eyes. “Underwater? What are you talking about?”

  “And I drove the boat,” Evelyn boasted.

  “Like I said, it’s a long story. The statue’s worth about forty million dollars, and you know what? If you got it back for Kane, he’d make you his head of security for certain. No question about it,” Mike said.

  “And why should I believe you?”

  “Why do you think we broke in here? Hicks kidnapped Evelyn to trade her for the statue. We were trying to get her back. Say, Wally, what were you doing here?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I heard the house was broken into, and I thought it would be a good time for me to ask Kane for Hicks’s job, considering that he screwed up. I heard the shot, ran into the house, and saw Hicks. I put him out of his misery. Then I went outside and saw those two pop out of the ground like prairie dogs.”

  “It’s a little early in the morning for a job interview, don’t you think?”

  “Again, not that it’s any of your business, but I wanted to see what the security setup looked like, so I came early. I’ve been here for a few hours, watching the sentries walk back and forth.” Hearst sniffed. “Pretty lax attitude, if you ask me.”

  A door swung open. “What the hell is going on here?” Kane demanded. “Where’s Hicks?” He registered Mike and Evelyn and glared at them.

  That’s when Hearst rose.

  “What’s going on here, Hearst?”

  “Well, sir—”

  Mike stood up. “Mr. Kane, I don’t know if you remember me.”

  “I remember you, Special Agent Wardman. What the hell are you all doing in my library? And you, Evelyn?”

  Hearst interrupted. “They stole your statue, sir.”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “Yes, how did you know about that?” Mike asked.

  “Well … er … you told me,” he said, looking back at Mike. The other two shook their heads and lowered their eyes.

  Kane’s face reddened. “Where’s Hicks? Why isn’t he here?”

  “He’s dead sir,” Hearst said. “They shot him. He’s in the hallway.”

  Mike started again at the ceiling.

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Because he kidnapped this woman and they were trying to save her. They came out of a hole in the ground. That’s why they’re all dirty.”

  Kane strolled behind Hearst. He looked at the empty spot where the statue had been.

  “It seems that I’m in need of a new security chief,” Kane said. “Do you want the position?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Here’s your first job,” Kane said “Kill them.”

  “Let’s go.” Hearst herded the three out the front door. He threw his keys to one of the guards and ordered him to get his car, which was parked on the main road outside the gate.

  “Who the hell are you?” the man asked.

  “I’m your new fucking boss,” Hearst said.

  The man ran for the car and Kane motioned for two other guards to pick up Hicks’s body and bring it out. When the car arrived, they loaded it into the trunk
.

  “Things are going to be different around here,” Hearst said to the phalanx of guards who had been drawn to the action. “I’m in charge, and if you don’t like how we’re going to be doing things, you can clean out your lockers and leave.” The men watched as he slammed the truck shut.

  “You drive,” he said to Mike. He turned to Evelyn. “You sit in the back with me. You.” He pointed to Al. “Sit up front. My gun will be in her ribs the whole ride.”

  “Where to?” Mike asked.

  “Just drive. Make a right, and I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  Mike glanced at Al.

  “Eyes on the road,” Hearst said.

  “Why work when you don’t have to,” Mike finally said.

  “What are you talking about?” Hearst said.

  “Do you really think that Kane is going hire you after he ordered you to kill us? He may be a ruthless character, but do you think he wants a murderer on his payroll?”

  “What about Hicks?”

  “Hicks never killed anybody—personally, at least. That’s why Kane had the Bureau do all their contract work. He wants to keep his hands clean. That’s how rich men like that operate. Once you kill us, he’ll cut you lose. I guarantee it. And you won’t be able to say a word to anyone.”

  “But we made a deal.”

  “Guys like Kane make deals all the time. You think he gives a damn what happens after a handshake? He’s for Kane and no one else.”

  Hearst looked out the window.

  “Did you notice that Kane didn’t ask you to get the stolen statue from us? You know why? Cause he’s got some scheme to make much more than the forty million that the statue is worth. It’s a throwaway to him. Once we’re out of the way—all of us.”

  “What’s his scheme?”

  “We don’t know, but it’s related to the murders on the Judy Bee, the two surveyors, and, well, a few more unfortunate souls. It has something to do with the governors of Texas and California.”

  “I saw it on the news,” Hearst said. “They’ve got some new state government something or other.”

  “Run Government Like a Business,” said Al.