Amy Lynn, Into the Fire

by Jack July

  Brian Chambers showed up to visit Jack and lend some support. He and Parker had been working late, getting everything at Braxton Trucking running smooth again. Deputy Nolan stopped him at the door and told him it would be a few minutes. Micky sat listening as the men began to talk in hushed tones. “Ya’ll figure this out yet?”

  Deputy Nolan shook his head, “Nope. Had to cut Sitzberger loose today.”

  Brian was incredulous. “You what?”

  “No evidence.”

  “Son of a… Does Jack know?”

  “Yep.”

  “He ain’t went crazy?”

  “Nope, he’s in there taking care of his wife.”

  “Whew. Well, you know damn well Stone is behind all of this. He brings that union bullshit from up north. That’s who you need to be lookin’ at.”

  “Sheriff knows, but knowin’ is one thing and provin’ is another.”

  Just then Kelly walked out of the room wiping her eyes. Brian gave her a smile and a hug. “Hey Honey, how are you?”

  “I’m fine. My God, I hurt for him.”

  “We all do. But we’re gonna give it to Jesus and be there for him.”

  “Yeah.”

  Kelly sat down by Micky, turned to him and gave him a hug. Micky whispered to her, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sometimes people just need a hug.”

  Micky had other things on his mind. Like Congressman Stone.

  The oil lamps glowed while from across the room, the stoked fireplace gave off a flickering light and a smell of burning wood. Doc Earle watched her relax and begin to fade back in time. “Amy? The orphanage is burning, Cody is there, he’s speaking to you. Tell me, what is he saying.”

  “‘Drop it, drop it Fenian, drop it.’ I turned my hand over and it fell to the ground.”

  “What fell to the ground?”

  “The arm, the skin, but my hands were still red. I tried to wipe it off but it, it wouldn’t come off. It was sticky. Then he said, ‘Come on, let’s go, we have to go. Move dammit, move.’ I felt myself being lifted to my feet. I staggered, stumbled, I had no balance. Then I remembered where I was, who I was and what I needed to do.”

  Cody didn’t know how badly she was burned so he grabbed her from the back, hands in her armpits, and lifted her. Once she found her footing, he pushed her toward the car, opened the door and gently sat her down. He ran to the drivers side door, opened it, tossed his rifle in the backseat, jumped in and gunned the engine. Fenian came to herself and screamed, “STOP! STOP!”

  Cody slammed on the brakes. “What?”

  “My bag, I need my bag.”

  “What? No, we’re going.” He dropped the car into gear as she opened the door. He reached for her but she swatted his arm away and tried to climb out. “No, don’t. Shit, I’ll get it. Is it in the trunk?”

  “Backseat, in the backseat.”

  Cody ran to the taxi, slung open the door, grabbed the duffle bag and ran back. He tossed the bag on top of the rifle in the backseat, jumped into the front and once again tried to drive away. Sirens were audible in the distance and getting closer. Fenian’s mind worked slowly, but at least it was working. “Stop, stop. ID’s, we need ID’s, find out who these people are.”

  “No, you’re going to get us caught.” He hit the gas; she opened the door and rolled out. He slammed on the brakes and jumped out yelling, “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, get in the God damn car!”

  Fenian staggered to the closest body, nearly fell on it and dug in pockets for some sort of identification. She found a large wallet in a jacket pocket, stood, and headed back to the car. Cody also found a wallet on another body and ran back to the car. Just as Fenian’s door latched, the Audi peeled out of the driveway. To Cody’s left he could see flashing lights on the horizon, so he turned right.

  Fenian unzipped the wallet and out fell several folded paper squares. “What is this?”

  Cody glanced over. “Looks like cocaine. Gang hit squads like to get high before they attack, makes them feel invincible, keeps them alert for long missions.”

  “Have you ever done it?”

  “Yeah, well, not cocaine. Adderall. Hell, you’ve used Adderall.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I have. Gimme your phone.”

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Langley.”

  Fenian phoned in the two names. They were indeed Romanian mafia. Then she asked for the address of their boss. “Got a pen?”

  “Yeah.” Cody pulled a small notebook from his jacket with a pen slid in the binder. She wrote down the address.

  Fenian nodded to herself. “Okay, you ready?”

  “Ready for what?”

  “I’m gonna hunt him down and kill him.”

  “No you’re not, you’re goin’ home. My orders came from Adele, you are going home.”

  Cody looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was plotting, planning, her lips moved a tiny bit as she mentally walked her way through what he assumed would be a suicide mission. If he could get one solid punch to the side of her head, he could knock her out, but if he missed, she would probably kill him. He had to find another angle. “What about your child?”

  “What about it?”

  “How selfish can you be?”

  “Did you see it? DID YOU?” She took a deep breath. “There were dozens of children burned alive. My child would not have it any other way. Turn here.”

  “No. You’re going back.”

  Then she saw what she was looking for. “Stop the car.”

  “No, you’re going back.”

  “Then I’ll stop it for you.” She drew her weapon and opened fire under the dash, through the firewall and into the engine compartment. Cody slammed on the brakes, causing her to fire through the floorboard into the aluminum case of the transmission. The engine was still running but the transmission fluid poured from the shattered case and the car rolled to a stop. She reached for the door handle. He tried to grab her, but she spun back and stuck the .40 cal between his eyes. “You’re either with me, or against me. What’s it gonna be?”

  Cody shut his eyes and let out a breathy, “Fuuuck me. Okay, I’m with you. I’ll call Honest Abe to get us some help. I know that compound; we can’t take it alone.”

  “You’d be surprised what the highly motivated can do.” She pointed across the road to a fueling station. There sat a propane tanker with the driver fueling it up.

  “Oh my God, you’re insane.”

  “No, no, I’m filled with the vengeance of the Lord, and ah—” She unfolded one of the small packets of paper, stuck her nose in it and power snorted over a gram of coke. Her head thrashed back and forth and she gagged. After sniffing hard a few more times to get it down she looked at Cody and smiled an evil smile. With an uncharacteristic southern accent and a powdered donut nose she said, “—and ah, this here cocaine.”

  Chapter 30

  Kelly pulled into the driveway and parked. She could see the race shop behind the house, but strangely all of the lights were out. As she walked in the side door through the kitchen, she smelled something spicy. Their small kitchen table was set with plates, glasses, flatware and a square of paper towel folded neatly to the side.

  Joseph stood in the doorway. He looked like he had just showered and shaved. His six-foot-four frame towered over Kelly as he walked over to her, the dimple on his cheek accentuated by his boyish grin. “Hi Sugar Bear,” He gave her a hug and a gentle kiss on the lips.

  She cocked her head and looked at him suspiciously. “I’m surprised you ain’t out workin’ on your truck.”

  “No, I thought maybe I need to work on things in this house. Are you hungry? I made dinner.”

  “You made dinner? Really?” She hung her purse on the doorknob and decided to play this out. She sat at the table. Joseph took her glass, opened the refrigerator, pressed the button on the front of a box to fill the glass with white zinfandel and handed it to her. “Okay, what’s for dinner?”

  He opened the oven and pulled the
premade corn taco shells from the Old El Paso taco kit. They had been in there a little too long and were just a bit too brown. He put them on a separate plate, grabbed the skillet of seasoned ground beef from the stove and set them both on the table. “Tacos.” He finished setting the table with the grated cheese, diced tomato and shredded lettuce. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be home; I think I overcooked some things.”

  She smiled and looked around the kitchen; it wasn’t the sparkling ‘Kelly Clean’ that met her standards, but an attempt had been made. “It’s perfect.”

  He poured himself a glass of sweet tea, sat down, looked across the table at her and said, “So, how was your day?”

  They talked past midnight about the things there had not been time to talk about. Family, friends, business and jobs had all come first, but not tonight. They both remembered why they were together and vowed to make more time for each other.

  The next morning Joseph awoke to find Kelly wearing one of his T-shirts, brushing out her long hair and grinning in the mirror. He sat up in bed and watched her. “What are you thinking about, Miss Kelly?”

  “How lucky I am to be where I am, to have what I have.”

  “You earned all of it.” She giggled. “What?” he asked curiously.

  “Micky said he could fall in love with me.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s sweet, I guess.”

  “Well, you know, he is kind of handsome. He’s a Knight... and that accent, dang! And he loves horses. Heir to a billion-dollar fortune. A girl could do worse than that.”

  Joseph shook his head. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first cradle I robbed, now would it?” She teased as she turned and walk out of the bedroom.

  “I will kick his little ass!” Joseph exclaimed.

  She stuck her head back through the door and said with a cocky smile, “No you won’t. He has trained badass military guys that guard him 24/7. You’ll never get that close.”

  Joseph thought for a second and returned her cocky little grin. “Yeah, but you don’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean if Amy finds out, she’ll stomp a mud hole in your cute little butt and walk it dry.”

  She gave him a pouty little frown. “Oh, yeah, I sorta forgot about that part.” Kelly ran back in the room, jumped on top of him and pinned him down. “Well then, I guess I’m stuck with you. Do you want some coffee?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Good, I’m going take a shower; make me some too.”

  Jack parked Leon’s vintage truck on an old fire road and walked through the woods. He stopped, staying concealed in a tree line about 100 yards from Lamont Hughes’ small ranch house. Hughes was divorced and lived with his girlfriend/secretary, who was the reason he got divorced. Jack watched as they walked to the car together and left for work. He needed to find a way to get Lamont alone. As dark as his rage was, he wouldn’t harm an innocent, certainly not a woman.

  Once they were on their way, he went back to the truck and drove to their workplace. The union offices occupied two floors in a downtown building. He parked a half-block away and watched. After a couple hours, a squad car pulled in behind him. Deputy Skeeter got out and walked to the door. “Jack?”

  “Deputy.”

  “How’s it goin’? How’s Carla Jo?”

  “She’s about the same.”

  “Well, we’re all prayin’ for her. You waitin’ for somethin’?”

  Jack didn’t have a pre-planned response for that. He had to think fast. “Nah, this old truck don’t like to run when it gets hot. I was lettin’ it cool a bit.”

  “What’s wrong with your truck?”

  “Nothin, I just use this one to haul garbage to the dump.”

  “The dump’s on the other side of town. Whatcha got goin’ on over here?”

  No wonder Gene likes him, Jack thought, he’s a pretty sharp kid. “I was gonna go out to Dennis Headly’s and look at tractors, my ole one has ’bout had it.”

  “Hey, you know my uncle has the John Deere dealership in Rock Creek. I bet he can cut you a deal.”

  Jack saw Lamont pulling up to the exit gate of the parking garage. He was the only one in the car. “Them green tractors are too rich for my blood.” He reached for the ignition, “Let me see if this old thing will crank.” He turned the key and it started. Jack stuck his hand out the window. “Better go ’fore it decides to die again.” The deputy shook his hand. “Thanks, Deputy, for checkin’ on me. We’ll see you around.”

  “You got it, Jack. Later.”

  Jack pulled out about the same time as Lamont and followed him to a seedier part of town. His car slowed as he came upon a group of ladies plying their trade on the corner of a backstreet. After a short conversation, one of them slid into the passenger side of his Lincoln Town Car. A couple blocks away, Lamont drove into an alley and parked.

  Jack looked to make sure he had stopped and not used the alley as a short cut. He pulled forward a bit and stopped just out of sight. He gave Lamont about five minutes to do get into his dalliance with the prostitute. After slipping on a stocking mask, he looked up and down the street, checking for cops and witnesses. He smiled to himself thinking, You picked a damn fine place to do this.

  Jack eased out of his truck, tucked the .45 in his belt at the small of his back and grabbed the piece of rebar. He crept to the driver’s door of the Lincoln, staying out of sight of the mirrors. He peeked in and saw Lamont, both hands grasping the girl’s hair and slamming her face into his lap. He took the rebar and tapped on the window.

  “Hey man, you got a flat tire, you need help?”

  Lamont cracked the window on the still-running Lincoln. “Go away, motherfucker!”

  Jack swung the rebar, shattering the window and smoothly reached in turning off the ignition. Lamont jumped out in a rage while struggling with his zipper, only to come face to face with Jack’s cocked .45. With calm authority, Jack said, “Boy, me and you need to have a little talk.”

  Before Lamont could answer, the rebar came smashing down on the space between his neck and shoulder, sending him crumpling to the ground. The prostitute screamed. Jack turned the gun on her. “Shhh... Darlin’, I bet your pimp would really love this Town Car.” Jack tossed her the keys. “Why don’t you slide over in the seat, start it up and drive away. This boy won’t be needin’ it.”

  She was slow and unsure but did as she was told. As the taillights of the car cleared the end of the alley, Jack restrained Lamont at the feet and wrists with bailing rope, then backed his truck into the alley and wrestled him into the bed. “So Mr. Hughes, shall we go visit your friend, Mr. Sitzberger?” Lamont started to say something, but Jack hit him again. He gagged him tightly with a rag and duct tape, shut the tailgate and the cap and drove toward the country.

  Under hypnosis, Amy was slow and methodical in her description of events. Doc Earle didn’t want it all at once. He wanted a good stopping point, a place where they could discuss what was happening and why. He didn’t like to ask a lot of questions, but occasionally he peeked at her thought processes. “So, you disabled the Audi, and you spotted a tanker truck?”

  “Propane, it had propane written on it. Much of it was in English. I wondered why. Why was so much of it in English?”

  “The driver, what did you do to the driver?”

  “Nothing, I gave him money.”

  “He saw you; you should have killed him.”

  “No, no, no, I don’t kill working people, unless they harm babies, then I kill them all.”

  “Okay, please continue.”

  Fenian watched the driver fuel his truck as she removed her shoulder holsters and put on a Kevlar vest. Her shirt was burnt in a few places, but that’s why she wore cotton: it doesn’t melt like other materials. After readjusting and sliding the shoulder holsters back on, she reloaded the .40 cal. she had pulled from her left shoulder holster. She had no idea where the .40 cal. f
rom her right shoulder holster was. She pulled the bag to the front seat and replaced the missing .40 with a Walther .380, then stashed a few magazines in her vest and the small pockets on the holsters themselves. She started to go through her MP5 when she ran out of time. The truck driver hung up the nozzle and put the fuel caps back on.

  “Cody, go inside the station and see if there are any police or anyone that could give us trouble.”

  “Don’t leave without me.”

  “I won’t. For this to work I’m gonna need you.”

  “Good to know. You need anything?”

  Fenian nodded. “Water, I need water. Or Dr. Pepper if they have it.”

  Cody nodded and walked to the station. The driver went inside. Fenian grabbed her bag and walked quickly to the passenger side of the truck and tried the handle. It was locked; smart driver, she mused. She set the bag on the frame between the cab and the tank, then went to the driver’s side and positioned herself out of sight between the pump and the truck. As the driver turned the corner with the keys in his hand, a singed, coked up, glassy-eyed woman with a gun met him. “You speak English?”

  “Little, a little,” replied the surprised driver.

  “Unlock the door.” He did; she made a mental note of which key he used. She held her hand out and he handed her the keys. Cody turned the corner with a bag of drinks; Fenian jumped, almost shooting him. “Dang it!”

  “Easy woman! Geez.”

  She held out the keys, the correct one pinched between her thumb and index finger. “The bag is behind the cab, load it and jump in the passenger side.”

  Cody glanced at the dual axle tanker. “Can you drive this?”

  “We’ll find out.” She slid her .40 back in the holster, reached in her pocket and pulled out a wallet. Inside were twenty hundred-dollar bills, American. She held the cash out to the driver. “Here, take it.”