by Jeff Carson
The door at the end of the room opened with a squeal, and two men strode along the cages.
The occupants sat upright, including the witness in Wolf’s cage.
Wolf wondered why until one of the two men rattled a stick along the fence and a zap of electricity shot into his back.
Nackley lurched forward while Wolf stood up onto his crossed feet.
The two men stopped at their cage door.
“Sit down,” Cattle Prod said.
Wolf complied, steeling himself for another round of shocks. He might die today but he was damned if he wouldn’t make them remember this moment for the rest of their lives.
They twirled, undid the combination lock, then pushed open the gate.
“Hey,” the kid said, “when do I get me some more China White?”
They ignored him, looking at Wolf as they walked in.
Wolf rehearsed some foot maneuvers in his mind and leaned over onto his side to unleash hell.
But Cattle Prod stepped toward Nackley and shoved the stick into his side.
“Ah!” Nackley stretched out, scraping his face along the ground.
Wolf felt a tickle of electricity on his skin, but not nearly as much as Nackley did by the looks of the man’s bulging eyes and exposed teeth.
“Get up!”
They waited while Nackley used his face to push himself to his knees. Then the lead man hit him again, this time with a well-placed shock to the ass.
Wolf felt little pity for Nackley. If it hadn’t been for these gangsters Luke would have surely been dead by now. Still, the men’s lack of respect for human life unnerved him. He was undoubtedly next.
They took their time, shocking Nackley until he went limp. They seemed disappointed that they had to drag him out of the cage—which they did by the feet.
Nackley’s face mopped through Wolf’s puddle and trailed a wet streak out of the cage and into the shadows.
The cage closed. The door at the end of the row opened, letting in a slice of bright light, and clanked shut again.
Wolf felt the leading edge of hopelessness darken his mind, then tried to shake it away by sucking in deep breaths. The smell of human excrement, mixed with what he’d left on the floor a foot away, did little to help his mood.
Luke smelled pleasant but the reason for that brought more revulsion to mind than any amount of piss or shit.
The kid had the same calm, dull expression he’d worn before the ten-minute torture session they’d just witnessed.
Wolf remembered Staten shooting Swain point-blank in the head. They’d shot one of their own right before the action had gone down.
“What’s your name?” he asked the kid.
The witness looked up. “Lance.”
“Lance, you were telling me what happened that night.”
“Yeah. Why do you care? I told you, you guys are dead. They’ll use her—she’s freakin’ hot—but you?” He shook his head. “Sorry.”
Wolf sat up straight and leaned against the cage. “A dying man’s last wish, then. Come on. Tell me what you saw.”
Lance took his time, then spoke. “The four of them brought the Asian guy onto the beach. Shot him. They dropped the other guy, then left.”
“Where were you?”
“Up in the bushes on the other side of the pathway.”
“Is that where you live?”
“What? No. I was just out there for that night. Don’t normally go there but I had some good stuff and wanted to be in nature.”
“Oh. And … then what?”
“I was hitting the glass and saw ’em pull up in the parking lot in two cars. I was tweaked, didn’t want anyone ruining my buzz. They got out and one of them walked toward me, had a flashlight beam coming at me. I thought it was the cops. They had those unmarked sedans and shit.
“So I ducked into the bushes on the other side of the path, real deep in between some rocks. And I could see them coming down the trail. They flashed their lights, went onto the beach, and then back to their car. This took like ten minutes. They were obviously scoping the place and didn’t see me. And then finally when they went back I thought I was in the clear, but then they weren’t even close to done.
“They went back to the cars, and one of them got in and drove away. The other three waited for a bit, then dug into the trunk of their car and pulled out a dead guy.” The kid smiled and closed his eyes as if recalling a joke. “They were silent, carrying him out to the surf, and then they came up the beach, pretty much right to me, just past me, and dumped the body in the sand.”
“And you saw the body? You could recognize it as the dead FBI agent?”
The kid blinked. “No. I mean, I just saw it was a body. But it was the heavier of the two. All three guys were grunting and swearing at each other until they dropped it in the sand.”
Wolf nodded and waited for him to continue.
Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Why? You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you. What happened next?”
The kid’s chest heaved. “You don’t believe me. I’m not blind. Well, you can shove it up your ass.”
“What’s the matter?”
“You think I’m lying to you. You think I can’t recognize who the bodies were, or who dumped them?”
Wolf closed his eyes and leaned against the metal fence. “It would have been pretty dark. It was raining. They keep telling me it’s been raining for forty days, or something. There would have been no moon. I was on that beach the other night. Couldn’t see crap.”
“Yeah, well they had flashlights, remember, genius?”
Wolf opened his eyes and kept silent, trying to wait out whatever demon had stirred inside this kid.
Finally, Lance said, “I saw them dump that first body on the beach. They all walked back to the car. Then the second car came back. The driver got inside the other car and popped the trunk. They had another body inside, and they took out that one. I was freakin’ out and wanted to run, but I was afraid they’d see me. My legs were asleep … shit. So I just sat there and watched.”
Wolf leaned forward. “What happened next? They took the second body to the beach?”
“Yeah. And I knew the second body was lighter because only two of them had to take it and they moved way faster.”
Wolf nodded.
“And they dumped him right on the beach. And then … I swear I’m not making any of this up.”
Wolf nodded again.
A man’s scream echoed through the door at the end of the room.
The kid turned his head toward the noise. “That’s new.”
“What happened next?” Wolf asked. “You said you swear you weren’t making any of this up.”
“Yeah, okay. They stood there and propped up the bigger guy. Two of them did it. The third guy propped the smaller body. And then, boom! They shot. And they dropped both the bodies. And they got the hell out of there like they were teenagers running away from ding-dong-ditching a house. They got in their cars and bolted.”
“But you said you recognized them,” Wolf said.
“Yeah. I did. Oh yeah, at some point, two of the guys came up onto the path. They were like feet from me. One of them started smoking a cigarette, and another one came up and put a flashlight in his face. Started yelling at him to stop it. Told him he was going to leave evidence at the scene, or something like that. I got a real good look at the smoking guy. He had a frickin’ scar on his upper lip that like sliced his lip in half. You don’t forget something like that.
“And then who’s the first guy I see when I go to the FBI a couple days later? That guy with the scar, talking to your friend there.”
“And you approached her,” Wolf said, gesturing to Luke. “You said you knew she was his partner. How did you know that?”
“I’d seen them drive into the FBI building. She was hot as shit. I watched her go in.”
“Because you were watching the FBI headquarters building?”
The kid scratch
ed the inside of his arm. “I didn’t notice the scar on her partner’s lip until I went inside. I wouldn’t have stepped foot in that place if I’d known she was with the guy from that night.”
Wolf saw two heads swivel in their direction to listen—girls, no more than old enough to buy cigarettes.
He lowered his eyes, unable to take the lifeless expressions anymore, and sucked in the fruity scent of Luke’s shampooed hair.
He stared at the smudged light reflections on the floor and wondered how he and the woman sitting feet from his back had managed to get into such situations. Their meeting had been a curse, but it looked like their twisted path would diverge right here. Wolf had made his mind up—he’d take as many of these assholes into the void as he could. But Luke had a different future—one that would lead her on a tour of hell.
At the end of the room the door opened.
Chapter 43
Wolf opened his eyes the first time his teeth bounced off the concrete. His face slid over the rough floor, and he twisted his head to stop the dental grinding, but his head traveled where it wanted to. His muscles had no strength. His body felt like it had been beaten by a dozen baseball bats from the inside and out.
The door opened with a sickening squeal, and while his face momentarily stilled he locked eyes with a girl in a cage.
Hands pulled on his feet, and her pitying expression disappeared into the void as they yanked him into a brightly lit room.
The surface under his cheek softened, then crackled and squealed, pulling on his skin. With the few brain cells that still fired, he realized he was now being pulled over a carpet or rug covered in plastic.
Somebody grunted in Chinese and the two men dropped Wolf’s feet.
The light phased as they gripped him by the biceps and dropped him on a chair. One of the men grabbed the back of his shirt to hold him steady while the other spread his feet and taped his ankles to the chair legs.
“Sit back.” The man yanked him back by the shirt.
Wolf thought he already was sitting back so he remained motionless.
A hand chopped his neck.
He gagged and leaned forward.
“Back!”
Wolf leaned back, searching for the man to bite his nose off.
The man strung duct tape around his chest and stepped away.
The same voice as before barked another order and the two men walked away to a door, this one with oiled hinges, and left.
Wolf’s head lolled and he blinked rapidly, trying to regain his vision, but the world looked like he’d opened his eyes underwater.
“Mr. Wolf.”
Wolf shook his head.
“We will wait until you feel better.” The man’s voice had a thick Asian accent.
Wolf closed his eyes and took steady breaths. When he opened them his vision was clearer.
He squinted, and two Chinese men staring at him came into focus. One of them was no more than five and a half feet tall but he stood square with Wolf, his hands clasped behind his back and an expectant gaze that said he was in charge.
The second man sat, half-turned, in a chair behind, one hand resting near a keyboard, the other on his lap.
Behind them both, on exposed brick, hung six flat-screen monitors displaying color video feeds—various angles from ceiling-mounted cameras in different rooms and the exterior of a building.
The screens showed it was raining and dark outside.
“There.” The man smiled.
“There, what?”
“You feel better.”
“Like a million RMB.”
The man raised his eyebrows. “I am from Hong Kong. We use the Hong Kong dollar not the renminbi.”
“Oh.”
“We’ve been looking into you, Mr. Wolf.”
A whimper came from Wolf’s right, and he did a double take. Earnshaw, Nackley, and Staten were lined up in a row next to him and taped to identical chairs.
Wolf turned back to the man. He heard clicking on the keyboard and saw the screens, one by one, change to pictures of Wolf, Lauren, and Ella.
A piece of molten lead dropped into his gut.
“But I see I have been unfair.” The standing man offered a toothless smile. “My name is Tong. You may call me that.”
Wolf felt tears sliding down his cheeks.
Tong twitched his head and the man at the keyboard dove into action, clicking keys and moving the mouse.
The screens switched back to the views from the building cameras.
“I want to show you why you’re here, Mr. Wolf.”
Tong stepped aside, folded his arms, and studied the wall of monitors.
Wolf studied the screens and noticed disturbing details. The first screen on the left showed a large room with rectangular spaces in them. Each space had a bed and on each bed slept a person.
“How do you live with yourself?” Wolf asked.
“Ah-ha. Please watch. Upper-right screen.”
Wolf saw a display of the building’s exterior. The picture flashed and an Asian man standing near the outside door fell to the ground. Five masked men darted into view with raised handguns and opened the door.
As they disappeared through the exterior doorway, they appeared in the interior rooms displayed on the other screens.
Their weapons flashed again, and so did others. And for a few moments, all hell broke loose. Wolf noted there was no sound.
He watched the kids in their beds, saw them sliding off the edges of their mattresses and taking cover while others slept soundly as if nothing happened.
In quick time, the intruders had some men lying dead on the ground, left to bleed while they made their way like lightning into the middle monitor, bottom row. This room looked like sleeping quarters for the other Chung Do gang members.
Three of the masked men forced them out of bed, brought them into the warehouse, and made them kneel in a line.
Then the masked men broke off and rousted the kids from their beds, ushered them into the now vacated sleeping quarters, and shut the door.
Seconds later, the lower-right screen flashed and Wolf recognized Nackley and Staten’s body shapes as they rushed off-screen toward the action. The two men appeared on the lower-right screen with guns blazing.
Earnshaw bobbed his head, appearing to speak animatedly to the other man next to him, which Wolf took to be Swain.
The two men returned and gave Earnshaw news. Earnshaw left eyed the damage, then returned to the room with the Chung Do.
Wolf flicked his eyes to the dormitory and saw the kids huddling along the back-corner wall.
Earnshaw walked without pause to the first man in the line, aimed his gun, and fired. He moved sideways with cross-steps and dispatched three men before the first had hit the ground.
One of the four masked assassins lunged for Earnshaw and put a hand on his arm, talking excitedly into his ear.
Earnshaw pushed back and paused, and after a few moments talked back to his companion. They began what looked like a heated argument while the four Chung Do gang members lay still in growing pools next to their scared comrades.
Earnshaw delegated for a few moments, then nodded.
Staten stepped up and hit the last Chung Do member in line with the butt of his gun, sending him to the floor in a heap.
Nackley stepped in front of Earnshaw and fired off three quick shots, dispatching the other three members without a second’s hesitation.
The man at the computer clicked the keyboard and the screens froze.
Tong stepped in front Wolf. His eyes were glassy but hard. “I have to say, Mr. Wolf, I’m impressed with your record in the Sluice–Byron County Sheriff’s Department. I’m curious to know: after watching this video, do you understand why I have these men here now?”
Wolf eyed the three men to his right.
Nackley sat nearest, a pool of blood under his lashed hands on the otherwise clean clear plastic. Just like last time Wolf had seen him, his eyes were dead to the world. Ne
xt to him, duct tape covered Staten’s mouth, and his glare at Tong sparkling with fear-infused hatred. Earnshaw’s mouth was taped, too, and he stared at Wolf with a defeated expression.
“Why are they here? They killed your men. As far as I’m concerned, they let them off way too easy. I would have shoved the barrel of those guns up each of their assholes and fired until I heard it click.”
Tong’s face went blank. He stepped forward and punched Wolf in the cheek.
Wolf tilted his head back and laughed. And as he closed his eyes, the vision of Ella and Lauren on screen came back to him. The smile slid off his face and he sat upright.
“That’s the last time, I’ll warn you.”
Rain pelted a metal roof somewhere above them.
“I want you to tell me what happened,” Tong said. “Show me your sleuthing skills, Chief Detective Wolf.”
Wolf said nothing.
“People who please me have a much better chance of living.”
“These three men, and the fourth they shot at the cabin … Agent Swain … and the fifth, found at the beach, are the five attackers in this video. Obviously.”
Tong sat on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms. “Go on.”
Wolf shrugged. “They came in and assassinated all of your men at this facility.”
“Stable.”
Wolf narrowed his eyes. “Right. They came in and killed everyone. They let the kids go.”
“The product.”
Wolf raised an upper lip. “Right. But one of your men had his head out of his ass, and he shot and killed Special Agent Hooper. Off-screen there, on the bottom right. Which was not in the plan. They wanted to come in, kill, and leave. You stopped the video too soon for me to see, but I heard about the ace of spades cards left under two of the bodies. They left a calling card so you’d think a rival gang had done it.”
Tong stood up from the edge of the desk and snapped his fingers. The sitting man clicked the keyboard, and all the screens went black except for the upper-middle, where a picture of a smiling blonde teenaged girl came onscreen.
“An additional piece of information that we found out recently, Mr. Wolf. This will aid your investigation. I believe you American detectives call something like this motive.”
