Cavello gave him the address and he asked him one last question.
“Where do I find this Sierra?”
Cavello went pale.
“Uh-uh, no way, if Sierra found out that I led you to him he’d kill me slow. Bash every damn finger and toe I’ve got, but there’s no way in hell that I’m giving him up.”
“You think he would torture you to death?”
“I know he would; he’d kill me slow.”
“I believe you, and so this should be a mercy.”
He brought the knife out from behind his back and thrust it just beneath Cavello’s breastbone, puncturing the heart.
Cavello’s eyes went wide, but then closed, as he folded back into the recesses of the trunk.
He wiped both handles on the hammer and the knife, tossed them in the trunk beside the body and slammed the trunk shut. After wiping down the car, he changed out of the dress shirt he was wearing and put on the T-shirt.
He began walking away from the car, but then, remembering the deal he’d made, he reopened the trunk and tossed in the bottle of water.
After a walk to a busy intersection, he hailed a taxi. He supplied the cabby with the address of Jimmy’s friend, David Olden, and leaned back in his seat to think.
CHAPTER 4
Detective Simon Miller of the Brownsville, P.D. stared down at the two corpses lying on the floor of the hotel’s parking garage. He recognized the two as being Cavello’s boys and wondered silently just what the hell had happened.
Miller walked outside and made a call.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me, Miller, what the hell is going on? I’m in a hotel garage looking at the bodies of Cavello’s boys; have you guys gone to war with De La Rosa or what?”
“Cavello’s dead?”
“I don’t know, right now it’s just those two jerks he called a crew, but his car is nowhere to be seen.”
“They were there to pick-up Jimmy’s brother-in-law? The man must be a hard ass.”
“Listen, for now I’m blaming this on Cavello.”
“Why?”
“Because if I start looking into the brother-in-law then someone else may start looking at me,”
“I see your point, and it don’t matter anyway, Cavello’s probably dead. If it were me, I’d have taken him someplace and sweated my name out of him, and after that, well, let’s just say he would have outlived his usefulness.”
“The brother-in-law, could he really be that hardcore?”
“Those stiffs you’re looking at say yes, but hang up now; I’ve got an idea where I can find him.”
“Where?”
“Jimmy’s got a friend. Cavello knows about him and I bet he told the brother-in-law about him too. I’ll send another crew over there and if he shows up, they’ll handle the problem.”
“Good, but what about Jimmy?”
“Jimmy is just a matter of time.”
“Who are you sending after the brother-in-law?”
“I’ll send Mike.”
“That should end things, Mike’s worth three Cavello’s”
“You’re damn right he is, now get off the line, and keep your eyes and ears open.”
***
David Olden lived in one of six beach houses situated on a dead-end road. It was the third house from the end.
He had asked the cabby to drop him off two blocks away, and then he cut through back yards and came upon the home from the rear.
Whoever Sierra was, he knew that there was a good chance that he would send more men after him once he found out that the first group had failed, and so he decided that a bit of recon was in order.
Olden’s house was bordered by sparse trees in the rear, however the trees sat well back from the home and there was a field of well-mown grass between them. Anyone looking out a back window couldn’t help but see him approach, and so he walked towards the home with a watchful eye on the windows. He saw no one looking out at him though, and soon he was easing along the home’s perimeter.
He might as well have been the only one around as most people were either at work or inside enjoying the air-conditioning. He was wearing the oversized, black T-shirt and the fabric clung to him like a second skin in the stifling heat.
Through a back window, he spied a man about his age, who was reading. The man was blond with a darker goatee, and was lying across a bed, wearing only a pair of white tennis shorts.
At the foot of the bed was a large cherry wood hope chest, the kind his mother had stored all the extra blankets in when he was a kid.
On his way to the window, he walked by the central air unit and realized that it was dormant, in this heat, most likely broken, and the man had twin fans on and aimed at the bed. One of the fans was rattling so loudly that he wondered how the man could concentrate enough to read.
He made his way to the front of the house, and as he walked up the stairs, he could see through the screen door that the living room appeared empty.
He rang the bell with one hand, even as the other one closed about the Beretta he had taken off one of the dead men. The gun was tucked in the waistband of his pants, the cool, oiled metal almost soothing against his sweaty back.
He watched through the screen door, as the man with the goatee left the back bedroom and walked down the hall towards him. He noticed that the man was still carrying the book he’d been reading in his right hand, with a finger pressed between the pages to keep his place.
“Hello? May I help you?”
“Are you David Olden?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Jimmy White’s brother-in-law. Would you have any idea where I could find him?”
“No, but hey, come on in out of the heat and we’ll talk. It’s not much cooler in here since my AC’s on the fritz, but at least it’s out of the sun, and the ceiling fans help a little.”
***
They sat in the living room and drank iced tea.
The furniture was all white wicker with thick floral print cushions, situated atop a gleaming parquet floor. A large TV hung on a wall, while in one corner was a small desk with a laptop sitting upon it.
“Jimmy was here yesterday. He wanted to borrow money, a lot of money. When I told him that I didn’t have it, he left. What’s going on with him? I thought that he seemed nervous.”
“Was there a woman with him, someone named Reina?”
“No, and I don’t know anyone named Reina, but then, I really don’t even know Jimmy that well.”
“Where do you know him from?”
“There’s a bar down the road called O’Neil’s, a pub really. Jimmy used to be a semi-regular, we’d play pool, talk sports, but I haven’t seen him there in weeks.”
Something flitted across his peripheral vision and as he looked out the screen door, he saw a man dart behind a large palm tree. He stood and took out the gun.
David Olden’s eyes bugged out of his head as he stared at the weapon.
“Jesus! What are you doing with a gun?”
“There are men looking for Jimmy so that they can kill him. I think they’re outside your home right now. Come with me and I’ll protect you.”
He headed down the hall, towards the back door in the kitchen and realized that Olden wasn’t following behind. He turned and saw that he was still standing where he’d left him, and beyond the screen door, two men were now approaching the house with guns drawn.
“David, those men will kill you if you don’t leave now.”
Olden didn’t answer him; he just stood bugged-eyed as he watched the two men head for the porch.
“David!”
No response,
There was no time to go back for the man, not if he wanted to live, and so he left him and headed for the back door off the kitchen. He was just reaching for the knob when he spotted two more men walk past the same mesquite trees he passed on his way to the house, both men had guns drawn and one was wearing a bulletproof vest.
He stepped back into the hallwa
y just as the first two men reached the top step, then ran into the bedroom. He could hear the sound of the screen door being kicked in even above the noise of the rattletrap fan.
A man’s voice said, “Jimmy White, do you know where he is?”
Olden’s voice answered, but it was so weak that he could barely hear it.
“I, I, I, I...no,”
“Too bad for you,” said the first voice, and then a shot echoed throughout the house. The sound was followed by the thud of Olden’s body hitting the floor and the crunch of the back door being shouldered open.
He was trapped.
If he tried to go out the back window, they would spot him and run him down. Four against one weren’t the worst odds he’d ever faced, but the surrounding landscape offered little room for cover, and the four men had only to fire a lucky shot to bring him down as he sought refuge.
He looked about the room as his mind raced for a way out, knowing that he was only seconds away from death.
CHAPTER 5
James White Jr. felt his heart catch in his throat as the office door opened inside O’Neil’s restaurant.
Sean O’Neil, the pub’s owner, saw the look on Jimmy’s face and grinned.
“It’s all right, Jimmy, it’s only me.”
Jimmy White stood just over six-feet tall with muscular, but lanky limbs. Like his sisters, Jessica and Gabriella, he had blond hair and blue eyes.
Seated beside Jimmy was Reina Sierra, she had a dark complexion, was beautiful, petite, and looked younger than the twenty-seven years of age she was. She sat beside Jimmy on a green sofa and the two of them held hands.
Jimmy looked up at O’Neil with eyes full of hope.
“Any luck?”
“No, a couple of truckers have come in today, but they were both local.”
“That’s no good, we need to at least get out of the state and my car won’t make it the way it’s leaking oil. Say, Sean, are you sure you can’t—”
“No! I won’t loan you money, Jimmy. I’m sticking my neck out as it is, huh?”
“You’re right; I won’t ask again.”
Reina stood up.
“Jimmy, I have to use the bathroom.”
“All right honey, but please baby, don’t take any longer than you have to; if either of us is spotted then it’s over.”
Reina smiled at O’Neil.
“I want to thank you again for helping us.”
O’Neil looked embarrassed by her gratitude and stared down at the floor as he answered her.
“I’m glad I could help.”
Once Reina left the room, O’Neil looked over at Jimmy while shaking his head.
“Donato Sierra’s wife? Good God, Jimmy, what the hell are you thinking?”
“I can’t help it, Sean; we’re in love.”
O’Neil sighed and sat on the sofa.
“You can’t hide from them you know, not unless you leave the country, and hell, even then they might find you, and if they can’t find you, they might do something... extreme.”
“What do you mean extreme? If they couldn’t find us, how could they hurt us?”
“I’m talking about your family; these bastards might take things out on your family.”
Jimmy looked aghast at the suggestion.
“I... I couldn’t let that happen. My little sisters, no, no, I’d give myself up first.”
“There’s something else,” O’Neil said.
“What’s that?”
“...You and Reina, I need you to leave soon. I can’t take the risk any longer that Sierra’s men won’t track you here.”
“I figured that was coming, and I’ve already thought of another place to hide. Reina has a friend with a house just off of North Central Avenue; we’ll hide out there until I can think of something.”
“Won’t you be putting her friend in danger?”
“No, she’s on vacation, but Reina knows where she hides the spare key and there’s no alarm. Donato will never find us there, and we’ll have time to plan our next move.”
Five minutes later, Sean O’Neil watched Jimmy White drive off in a car that was belching fumes as if it were an old diesel truck.
Dead man, Sean thought. I’m looking at a dead man.
CHAPTER 6
Inside the home of the recently deceased David Olden, four men cautiously approached a bedroom doorway.
“You’re sure he went in here, T.J.?” asked their leader, the one wearing the bulletproof vest.
“Yeah,”
“I saw him too, Mike, and he had a gun in his hand, so let’s take it slow.”
The men crept towards the doorway from both sides, two men each, and as they grew closer, they could hear the rhythmic rattle tat tat of the table fan blowing.
Mike, the man who was wearing the bulletproof vest whispered a question.
“What’s that noise?”
“It’s a fan; the blades must be getting loose, judging by how loud it is.”
“Yeah, well that noise can cover the sound of his movements, so stay ready.”
Once they reached the edge of the doorway, Mike pointed to himself and then to the opposite side of the threshold. After the others had nodded to him in understanding, he took a deep breath and jumped over to the other side of the doorway, while doing so, he glanced inside the room.
“What did you see?” one of the men whispered.
“The room looks empty, but there’s a closet on the left and that bed sits high enough off the floor to crawl under. It wouldn’t be a bad spot to hide, once we entered the room he could blast our feet out from under us.”
The man named T.J., the shortest and youngest of the four, spoke up.
“I’ll check out what’s beneath the bed.”
T.J. took a couple of steps back, and then ran through the doorway. Once he cleared the threshold, he dived to the floor with his gun arm extended and aimed beneath the bed.
Nothing happened.
“He’s not under here,” T.J. called out. “There’s just a bunch of crap under the bed.”
Once those words were spoken, all four heads turned and stared over at the closet door.
T.J. rose from the floor as his partners entered the room.
Mike snapped his fingers at him.
“Cut off that damn fan, you can’t hear shit with that thing on.”
The fan cut off and the ensuing quiet was abrupt after the steady din it had been producing.
When the sounds of movement came from the closet, Mike nodded and smiled.
“We got him trapped,” he whispered, before taking point and padding towards the closed door.
They stood two men each, on both sides of the door, as Mike reached over and gripped the knob. He flung the door open and something hidden beneath a blanket moved at the rear of the closet.
“Waste him!” Mike said.
Four guns blasted away, issuing forth dozens of bullets. When the last shot was fired, Mike stiffened as he and the others stared down at the closet floor and beheld a bloodless kill.
“T.J.?”
“Yeah?”
“The crap under the bed, what was it?”
T.J. shrugged. “Blankets and pillows, shit like that, why?”
Mike said, “Fuck!” as he began swiveling around, but a millisecond later, the first of the shots blew T.J.’s brains to bits. He crumpled to the floor, only to be followed by his mates. All four men were shot from behind, and three of them died from fatal wounds, but Mike survived the barrage thanks to his vest, and slid down the wall outside the closet, as his leg wounds began turning his gray slacks red.
He looked up and saw Jimmy’s brother-in-law standing inside the open hope chest.
“A big bastard like you, I’m surprised you fit in there.”
“I managed,” the man said, as his cold eyes stared back.
Mike looked about for his weapon. He had dropped it when he was shot. It was lying on the carpet, only a foot away from his gun hand.
�
��These guys all laughed at me when I put the vest on. They said it was too fucking hot for it, but hey, who’s laughing now?”
“Donato Sierra, where can I find him?”
“What was in the closet?”
“A second fan wrapped inside a blanket and set to oscillate.”
Mike chuckled.
“You clever bitch,”
“Donato Sierra.”
“I counted fifteen.”
“What?”
“Fifteen, I counted fifteen shots. That’s a Beretta, Cavello’s gun; I recognize the walnut grips. If I’m right about the count, then you’re holding an empty gun.”
“Donato Sierra, where is he?”
“That gun’s empty.”
“What if there was one in the pipe?”
“Cavello never chambers a round; you’re empty.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Dead sure!” Mike said, and lunged for his weapon. The bullet entered just above his left nostril and painted the wall behind him with his brains.
***
He searched Mike for his cell phone and snagged a fresh clip that held 9.mm shells, shells that would replenish his now empty gun.
From the front of the home came the sigh of murmuring voices, as Olden’s neighbors gathered together in curiosity over the sounds of chaos.
He kicked the screen out of the back window, and after sitting on the sill, he glanced back at Mike’s corpse.
“Death by math,” he said, then, he dropped to the ground and ran for the trees, as the faint sound of sirens blossomed in the air.
CHAPTER 7
The bar called O’Neil’s sat on a corner lot. There were tables in the back on a brick patio but no one was sitting at them. On a day as hot and steamy as this one, everyone was inside.
David Olden said that he and Jimmy hung out there sometimes. He was hoping that he might find someone else who knew Jimmy, someone who might know where he was.
He opened the door and the air-conditioning welcomed him like a lover’s arms, as the stale scent of beer assaulted his nostrils, and the country song on the jukebox filled his ears.
He lowered himself onto the last bar stool, the one that provided him a view of both the front and rear entrances.
There were eleven other customers in the place. Four guys at the bar, an older couple sitting in a booth, three young women, all secretarial types, having a late lunch, and two guys playing pool, who looked too young to drink,
The TAKEN! Series - Books 5-8 (Taken! Box Set Book 2) Page 20
