“Once we get Julia, we’ll take her to the school and take her in to get the kids.”
“Good. Only one thing: what if everything goes to shit?” Ryan asked.
“Then we stick our heads between our legs and kiss our sweet asses goodbye,” George said.
“It better work then,” Ryan said.
“It better. There's no other choice.” Jackson said.
“I need to pray now. I don't know if you fellers know the Lord or are the praying type, but we need all the help we can get right now, so I'm doing it anyway. Everyone gather up here,” George said.
“It can't hurt,” Jackson said. The kid rolled his eyes and came shuffling over.
They all gathered around in circle in the living room.
“Heavenly Father, I pray right now for your protection as we do this thing. We're not sure what we are doing and where this is leading, but we trust that you do, and that you will guide our footsteps. We pray for this city and this country and may your mighty power be over all of us at this time. Let us be your hands and feet. And we'll give you the glory when it is finished. We ask this in your son's mighty name. Amen.”
They all looked up
“Now let's go get this done. With God on our side, who can be against us?” George said.
They pulled out in a convoy and headed up the 101 Freeway to success or failure. Jackson quietly prayed again by himself and then turned to Brunell.
“We have to make this work, partner. It's all on us now.”
20
The nurse hurried back into the clinic carrying a large grocery bag. She hustle to the doctor’s office and pulled everything out, laying it on his desk.
“Here is the brown kelp, red kelp, and brown seaweed leaves from the South Pacific.” The doctor opened all the bottles and took two of each himself. He told the nurses to do the same, as a precaution.
He suited back up and took everything into to Dumitru's room. “Dumitru? Are you awake?”
Dumitru nodded. There were tears coming down the sides of his face. He had been crying.
“I have something for you. This may help considerably. Please open your mouth.”
He opened his mouth about one-third of the way. It was all he could manage.
The doctor slid one capsule into his mouth and told him to try and swallow it. He was afraid if he gave him any water, he would just vomit it up.
It took him about five minutes, but he got it down.
“Nurse, here. Give him four of each, red and brown. Then take the wet leaves out of the plastic bags and lay them all over his body.”
In Mrs. Drasov's room, he made sure she took four of each, as she had been with him the longest. Her symptoms had improved considerably, and she was able to drink water. He was hopeful she had escaped the worst of things.
He stopped in Valeria's room last. She looked and acted fine. He checked her vitals and nodded. He gave her two of each of the pills and got her a cup of water. “Thank you for this wonderful tip. You may have saved everyone's lives, Valeria. This could be the answer for us all.”
“I never doubted. I know it is.”
“You have a great faith, Valeria. I admire that. And it seems like you are totally healed already. It's almost like you spoke to your God personally, and he heard you. I have never known of such a faith as this.”
“I can and do speak to my God personally. All the time. And he does hear and answer me.”
“What kind of a God is this? In my religion, we are taught of a great and powerful God. One that punishes, and sends to hell and rewards those who do his will, but I have never heard of one that actually speaks to his followers personally.”
“Have a seat and I'll tell you about him.”
He walked over and shut the door, grabbed a chair, and sat down next to her bed.
21
Brunell pulled out his phone looked at the paper where he’d written the phone number for the UPS store.
He waited until they pulled into the strip center where the store was. They parked two rows from the front, but they could see inside the store.
“All right. You ready?” Jackson asked.
“Ready as I'll ever be,” Brunell said. He took a deep breath and called.
“UPS Paradise Village,” the clerk said.
“Hello. Could I please speak to Julia?” Brunell said.
“One moment. She is packing something right now. I'll put you on hold.”
A minute later, someone picked up the phone. “This is Julia.”
“Hi, Julia. This is Mr. Jenkins at Serrano School. How are you?”
“Fine. Oh, God… is something wrong?”
“Not entirely, Julia. But we have an issue. It seems that Manuel has become ill. He has a fever and has thrown up. Do you think you could come pick him up? He would like to see you.” Brunell said.
“Oh Lord. I've already missed a few days this month with some other issues. Hold on please; let me see.”
They sat on hold for a minute, as they watched her talking with the other clerk. Then she picked up.
“Yes, it should be OK. I get off in an hour, and they can cover for me. I'll be right there.”
“Thank you Ms. Ford. We'll keep him calm and resting until then.”
“Thank you.”
They watched as she went in back and reappeared with her purse and keys. She waved them goodbye and came out the door.
George was parked a couple of rows back and got out and watched where she was headed.
She found her car and hopped in, rolling down the window to let the daytime heat out.
George hurriedly walked up to the driver’s side. “Excuse me, Julia. I need to talk to you for a moment.”
She looked up, stunned. “Who are you? I have a sick child. I need to go!” She reached to shift the car into reverse.
George leaned in and said, “There's nothing wrong with Manuel. He is perfectly fine. Your husband, on the other hand, is not.”
She put her hand up to her mouth. “My husband? I haven't seen him in days! What have you done with him?” She started shaking, and tears welled up in her eyes.
“We haven't done anything with him, Julia. It's what we want to do with him to keep others from doing bad things. That's why we need to talk. Right now.”
She nodded her head quickly and wiped her eyes. As she rolled up the window she stopped and said, “How do I know I can trust you? He has some shady friends. How do I know you aren't going to hurt us?”
George poured on the charm.
“Miss, I am seventy-five years old. I wear a big old cowboy belt buckle and boots. I am a retired FBI agent. Even if I wanted to, there isn't anything I could do to you or the kids. I'm too damned old. You’re going to have to trust me.”
“FBI? Oh, God. I told him he had to quit with the shady stuff! His brother has a good painting contracting business, and he wants to hire him. Damn him!” She hit the wheel with her fist.
“I said RETIRED, Miss. I am no longer with the force. I am merely a concerned citizen looking to help some folks like yourself. That is what we want to discuss with you. Now, if you will please come with me, everything will be explained.” George tried to reassure her.
She nodded again and rolled the window all the way up.
She got out, hit the lock, and walked with George over to the truck.
“Wait!” She said suddenly. “Juan told me to never trust the police. With anything. He was emphatic about it.” She looked at him before taking off at a dead run.
George took off after her as Adam and Jackson peeled out in chase. George got about two hundred feet before he slipped and hit his knee on the asphalt as he went down. He waved them on and hollered, “Go get her! Go! Go!”
They were dodging cars pulling in and out as they chased after Julia running headlong through the strip mall. As she dashed past people with bags and strollers, she narrowly missed several people as she weaved in and out. She took a hard left and ran into Einstein Brothers Bagel
s and disappeared.
They stopped the car, and Brunell ran inside after her. Jackson pulled forward to the corner and saw the store’s rear entrance. He careened around the corner just as she was running out the back, and she ran straight into the side of a bakery delivery van. She had been looking at Brunell behind her, and just as she turned back around, she hit the side of the van—hard.
Brunell ran up to her and got down next to her.
“Julia! Julia! We are here to help you. Wake up, Julia.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face and waved air around on her. He checked her vitals and saw they were OK.
Jackson got out and ran up to help. They were checking her head and neck to make sure it was OK before sitting her up. George came hobbling around the corner like a peg-legged pirate, cussing and limping.
“Hell fire and damnation! That girl can run! I never stood a chance.”
Jackson looked at him. “You OK?”
“Hell yes, I'm OK. Just pissed off. My boot slipped on the damn speed bump. I've felt worse, but not much.” George spit out.
“Go back and get your truck. We’ve got to get out of here.” Jackson shouted.
Just then an employee of the bagel shop ran out, shouting. “Hey! Leave Julia alone! We called the cops. You are in big trouble!”
Obviously, they knew her. George hopped around the corner and hobbled back to his truck. Julia started coming around and Brunell said, “Julia! Are you OK? Can you hear me?”
Julia shook her head and mumbled. “Wha…who are you?”
Brunell said, “I am a State Patrol intelligence officer. We are here to help you. Please stand up if you can.”
Brunell and Jackson helped her up as the shop employee ran over and got in their faces. “You leave her alone! Julia has friends around here! The cops are on the way. We'll take her in here.”
Just then, George came squealing around the corner, and they threw the door open and lifted her up and put her in. “Go! Go! Go!” Jackson pounded on the side. And George peeled off.
Brunell and Jackson dashed to the BMW as the employee was writing their plate numbers furiously on his hand.
Jackson and Brunell caught up to the truck and Jackson called George's phone.
“Pull into the neighborhood ahead. We have to get off the main streets. They got our plate numbers.”
They followed as George went two more blocks and pulled off into the neighborhood. He wound around several blocks and came to a stop on a cul-de-sac with a tennis court and single house on it.
They pulled up behind and ran up.
“How is she? Is she speaking?” Jackson asked.
“Julia! Are you awake? Wake up, Julia!” George shouted.
“Yeah… I'm awake. Who… who are you? Where are my kids?” Julia asked groggily.
“Julia, I am James Jackson, former director of the Arizona State Patrol, Department of Intelligence. Please listen very carefully.”
“Uh... State Patrol? Was there a car accident? Where are my kids?” Julia asked in a daze.
“Your kids are fine. They are in school. We are here to help you and them. We have reason to believe that your husband and you are in grave danger, and we must get you to a safe place. You must listen and cooperate with us right now. We cannot guarantee you or your kids’ safety otherwise. Will you listen to us?”
“Wha…. where are your police cars? Your badges?” Julia asked.
“We will tell you all of that. Right now we need to get you to the school and ask to take your kids home. Are you listening to me, Julia?” Jackson continued.
“Sssure… I think. Why would, why would anyone want… to hurt my kids?”
“It has to do with your husband. Now, if you are able, we are going to take you to the school, and you and George are going to go in and get them. Then we will take you to safety. Are you listening, Julia?” Jackson said.
“Get… the... kids. Yes. I… need to get the kids.” Julia stammered.
“Good. We are going to go there now. Can you be well enough to go in and do this for them? You must be alert and coherent.” Jackson said.
“Yes. I… think so. Yes.”
She sat up straighter and patted her hair down.
“George will let you check your makeup and hair when we get there. But we must go now,” Jackson insisted.
“OK.” She was coming around better now.
“George, get moving. We will be behind you. We need to stop and grab a couple of plates. We'll meet you there in five. Go!” Jackson said.
George took off, and Jackson looked around. There were four cars parked on the street. He opened the trunk and pulled out the BMW toolkit and ran down to the first car. He hunched down and unscrewed the plate and grabbed it. He put the new plate on and pulled up next to the car he had stolen the plate from. He jumped out and popped his plate on it. No use alerting the owner to the fact that he had no plate. Most people never paid attention to their plate numbers, but no plate at all might be too obvious.
He drove down the block and grabbed another plate. No way to replace it though. Damn! Off they drove.
George wheeled into the school parking lot and let Julia straighten herself.
She was groggy but getting better. They sat for about three minutes.
“OK, Julia. We are going inside. You will ask for them and say you have a family emergency. If they ask, tell them I am your uncle. Got it?” George asked.
“Uncle. Yes. Yes… I am fine.”
“OK, let's go.” And he got out and went around to help her down.
Jackson and Brunell pulled up just as they were walking in. They jumped out and switched the plate on the truck.
They sat and waited for them to come out, Jackson drumming his fingers on the dashboard nervously.
“Shit! This is what I wanted to avoid. Damn it!” he shouted.
Five minutes later, the four of them walked out and George lifted the kids up, one by one, into the rear seat of the truck. They were terrified.
“Hi, kids. I'm George. You can call me Uncle George. We are going to take a little drive. When we get there, we can have some treats. I need to ask you to lay down on the seat and not look out the windows. OK?”
No need to chance things with a cop or nosy do-gooder looking at kids in the back.
They looked at him with huge eyes and did as he asked.
Jackson and Brunell pulled up, and Jackson said, “Go on. Get out there. Take the side streets to avoid the speed cams. It will take longer. Stay off Shea Blvd no matter what.”
“OK. I'll see you guys later.” George said.
Jackson drove back to the neighborhood car he’d swiped the plate from and replaced it with George's. They pulled out and headed back to the trailer.
22
Jackson parked the BMW back at his place and they walked back over to George's.
When they got inside, he grabbed some water out of the fridge and handed one to Brunell.
“Well, that was pretty much of a crap sandwich. We can only hope there were no cams in that store. The cops will be looking at everyone's surveillance around there. We may need to dump these rigs and get some new ones,” Brunell said.
Just then, Jackson realized he still had his demo from the Lot. The Chechen had been so pissed when he’d fired him, he must have forgotten. He was sure they would be coming for it.
“They are going to come for my car. I never thought about it when I left the lot. Maybe I can get Paul to help out with this,” Jackson said.
They decided he would take the BMW back, using the rear entrance.
The kid walked out of the bedroom rubbing his neck and asked what was going on.
“We got her and the kids, but it wasn't pretty. We have a few loose ends.” Brunell said.
They filled him on the details.
“I can hack into the area stores and traffic cams and see what's on them. Maybe you weren't spotted.” Ryan said.
“Maybe I can convince Paul to spot us a couple of his whole
sale rigs headed to auction. If there are any non-sellers, they leave them sitting in back for a few days so the various wholesalers can make offers before they ship them out. I can tell him we only need them for a day or two.” Jackson said.
“That could work. Still, the PPD may have our pictures. Facial Recognition stuff.” Brunell said.
“Yeah, we will need to go incognito. Hats and glasses.” Jackson made a mental note to head back to Walmart for some gear.
“I'll head over and see what's available.”
Jackson looked out the window down the street towards his trailer and saw some movement in the back yard.
“Shit! The goons are down at my place right now. They must have come for my car. They’re looking around back.” Jackson said. He ran over to the other window and saw their tow truck in the street.
Brunell came over and looked over his shoulder out the window.
“Those are some big sumbitches, bro. You were right about them!”
“They must be paranoid, knowing I'm armed. They’re crouching, out of the window's sight.”
“Let's give them something to freak out about,” Brunell said.
Jackson slipped out the door and hustled down the street in a semi-crouch. He hid himself on the street side, with the truck hiding him from their view and pulled out his knife. He slit both the tires on the curb side. Then Brunell came jogging up with a bottle of Pancake Syrup from George's.
“Here,” he whispered. “Dump this into the gas tank too. It will mess it up good.”
Jackson poured it in.
They hustled back to George's and watched out the window. Goon number one came back around front and got in the truck to pull forward, ready to hook up the BMW sitting in the carport. Goon two was standing in the drive getting ready to direct him in.
“Shit!” They heard him shout. “Got flat tire!” Goon two came running around and slammed his fist on the hood when he saw it. “Someone cut da tires!”
They started looking up and down the street, walking in the direction of George's place, one on each side of the street, heads swiveling, looking menacing.
Black Flag Rising: A James Jackson Thriller Page 11
