“I’m so sorry about Linda,”
“Thank you, Jessica, and thank both of you for helping me. You did everything you possibly could have, but, sometimes there’s just no happy ending.”
He placed a comforting hand on Szabo’s shoulder.
“Let me come with you, just in case?”
“No, go back to Tyler’s, I’ll be alright. I’m going to a DEA safe house in Westland, and then I’ll call Baker and have him meet me there.”
“When it’s done, when Hopkins is finished, come see us and we’ll finally spend some time together when people aren’t trying to kill us.”
“You got it, brother,” Szabo said, and then the three of them walked back to their cars.
***
The city of Westland, Michigan was about a half hour drive from Detroit, but Szabo took an hour to reach it, as he diverted from his route often, to make certain that he wasn’t being followed. Once he became satisfied that he was alone, he made a stop for supplies.
When he reached the safe house just after dark, he turned on a light and dropped heavily on the sofa to think. The safe house sat alone on an acre of cleared land surrounded by trees, it was where he had planned on hiding Linda.
The memory of her made him start to weep, and this time he didn’t fight it. When his tears subsided, he rose and went back out to the car to bring in the supplies.
He stripped off his clothes and showered, and afterwards, he dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt he had bought on the road. Then, he made himself a strong drink, and picked up the phone to call Curt Baker.
By the time Baker arrived, Szabo was on his fourth drink.
Baker was a middle-aged man with a fringe of brown hair and gray eyes. He shook Szabo’s left hand and then held aloft the bag he was carrying.
“Fried chicken, biscuits, salad, and macaroni and cheese, you need something in your stomach besides whiskey.”
“Thanks Mom,”
“You’re welcome, now where’s the laptop?”
Szabo gestured at the coffee table. “It’s right there.”
“I was sorry to hear about your C.I.”
“Linda wasn’t just a confidential informant, we were lovers.”
“Shit Steve, I’m so sorry.”
Szabo nodded as he gestured towards the hallway.
“I’m gonna go take a leak.”
Once he was in the bathroom, the tears began again, but he splashed water on his face and got himself back together. After urinating, he washed his hands and decided that he would eat something, and then realized that he had not eaten all day.
He walked back down the hallway and called to Baker.
“I hope you got white meat, Curt, I like wings.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to settle for dark meat,” Darnell said. He was standing next to Baker while holding a gun, and there were four other men around them, including Mr. Brown.
Szabo’s hand reached for the gun on his belt and found nothing there, and couldn’t have grabbed onto it had it been there. Out of habit, he had used his now fingerless right hand, and reached to the wrong side of his belt.
“Oh shit,” he said in disgust, as one of Darnell’s men took his gun away. He looked over at Baker, who gazed at him with eyes seeking forgiveness. “How much is he paying you, Curt?”
Baker shook his head in vehement denial of the accusation.
“There’s not enough money in the world, Steve, but he’s got my wife and kids. I’m so sorry man, but he’s got my family.”
Darnell called to one of his men. “Hakeem?”
“Yes?”
“Call and tell them to release Baker’s family.”
Baker sighed in relief.
“Thank you, Darnell.”
“We had a deal. You give me Szabo and your wife and kids are safe.”
And after saying those words, Darnell shot Baker in the head.
“Oh you motherfucker,” Szabo shouted, as he took a step forward.
Two of Darnell’s men grabbed Szabo’s arms and held him fast, as Mr. Brown jabbed a needle into his neck. The drug took immediate effect and Szabo felt the world slipping away.
***
Szabo awoke to find himself chained to a brick wall like a prisoner in an English castle. Standing in front of him was Darnell along with a man dressed in scrubs, like a doctor, and a surgical mask hung around the man’s neck. Behind them on a table were several sharp-looking instruments, along with vials and syringes.
Darnell walked over and stared him in the eye.
“You killed my wife, Szabo, do you deny it?”
“No, I killed her; I killed her for murdering Linda.”
“The man behind me is Dr. Soong, and he is an expert on torture. You will feel more pain than you could ever have imagined, and it will go on for weeks, possibly months, I was assured that the doctor is very skilled.” Darnell leaned closer and whispered in Szabo’s ear. “Welcome to hell.”
CHAPTER 8
Lawson thanked Kari for the coffee as he took the cup from her, and then watched her as she walked back towards the kitchen.
“That is a very lovely girl,” he said.
“Woman,” said Tyler, “And she’s mine,”
Lawson sat the cup down and raised his hands.
“I was simply admiring her, Professor.”
“Szabo,” he said, “Get back to telling us about Szabo, Lawson,” and Tyler nodded in agreement.
“There’s not much to tell really, he’s missing again, and now so is his supervisor, but the DEA—”
Lawson’s phone rang.
“I have to take this, sorry,” Lawson listened for a moment, said the word, “dead?”, and then told the person on the other end of the line that he would get back to them. “Szabo’s supervisor, Curt Baker, he was found dead at the safe house in Westland. There was no sign of Szabo.”
“Darnell has him again, and this time he wants him dead.”
“He most likely is dead, and you can bet that Darnell now has the laptop.”
He stood and paced for a moment, and then looked down at Lawson.
“What is the DEA going to do about this?”
“They’ll launch an investigation into Baker’s murder and Szabo’s disappearance, and after a period of time they either will or will not arrest Darnell in connection with those crimes.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, that’s it, that’s all they can do, given the laws, restrictions, and limitations that they have to work within.”
“That’s insane,” Tyler said.
“Yes it is, Professor, but it’s also the way things are, which is why they created my department, because, sometimes gentlemen, the government gets tired of taking shit from people like lowlife drug dealers.”
“What are you saying, Lawson?”
“Take down Darnell Hopkins, dismantle his organization, and I’ll back you up with whatever you need.”
Tyler smiled. “Now we’re playing by my rules.”
***
They discussed strategy over dinner, and he made a request of Lawson.
“I want someone guarding this house while Tyler and I are out searching for Szabo.”
“That’s not a problem; I’ll station two men at the front door.”
He shook his head.
“That’s not good enough: I want someone I know can handle themselves, I want Jace.”
Lawson chuckled.
“What is it with you and that kid?”
“What do you mean?”
“He asked about you the other day and told me that he wanted to be paired with you whenever possible.”
“Well, now is his chance, but I don’t want him out in the field with us. I want him here, standing guard.”
“I guess that won’t be a problem, he’s fairly close and I can pull him off of what he’s doing; he’ll be here by morning, okay?”
“Yes, and thank you.”
“Who is this Jace, and why does Lawson call
him a kid?” Tyler said.
“He is a kid compared to us, but no less deadly, and he’s smart. I trust him to keep Jessica and Kari safe.”
“That’s good enough for me, and I’ll feel better knowing there’s someone here if trouble shows up.”
Kari laughed.
“I still have the gun that Darnell’s bodyguard gave me; it just needs bullets.”
Tyler stared at her. “Just how friendly did you get with that guy?”
“Are you jealous, Professor?”
“Yes, and a little insecure,”
Kari smiled again. “Don’t be, I’m here to stay,”
Lawson wiped his mouth with a napkin and checked his phone for messages.
“I was just sent that list you wanted. There are forty-two separate locations, and that includes the residences of senior members.”
“We’ll be hitting Darnell’s distribution network first, is there a way to tell them apart from the other targets?”
“Yes, they’re color coded, priority targets are marked red.”
“Good, we’ll start tonight, and by morning I hope to have Szabo back.”
“You do realize that he’s probably dead?”
“I know that, and if that’s the case than I want his body, and I’ll wreak holy hell on Darnell until I get Szabo back.”
***
After Lawson left, Tyler brought out a box and handed it to him.
“I was going to save this until Christmas, but I think you need it now.”
“What is it?”
“Open it and find out.”
He opened the box, stared inside, and laughed.
“Is it just like yours?”
“Yes, and Kari guessed your size, I hope it fits.”
He grabbed it out of the box and Jessica gasped.
“Good lord! They’ll die just looking at you.”
“It is impressive,”
He was holding aloft a suit of body armor, it was a replica of the suit Tyler wore in the days he roamed the Detroit streets as a vigilante.
Tyler handed him a second box. “These are the accessories, try it on.”
He took it upstairs to the bedroom and when he came down minutes later, Kari “oohed” at the sight of him.
He was dressed in black from head to toe and his chest, back, abdomen, crotch, and legs were protected by bullet resistant materials. There were four built-in holsters with midnight-black guns and a sheath with a razor sharp machete. Placed at strategic areas were pouches for spare clips, while armbands held small canisters of tear gas and miniature grenades. When fully equipped as it was, the suit weighed fifty-two pounds.
Jessica walked up to him, and he raised the mirrored visor.
She touched his cheek.
“You were born to wear this.”
***
Downtown Detroit, 11:43 p.m.
At the rear of the Tyrese Dawkins Memorial Soup Kitchen was a door that was always guarded.
The door led down into the building’s basement where drugs were packaged and proceeds from their distribution counted.
Besides the four men at the door, there were a dozen more armed guards inside and every inch of the property was being recorded with a surveillance system that rivaled a casino’s.
Tyler approached from the left, while he approached from the right, both of them garbed in their lethal suits. The four men at the door died in a simultaneous barrage of firepower, as an alarm began blaring below.
Through the door was a long, narrow corridor that could only be walked single file. Tyler freed a smoke grenade from his armband and tossed it to the end of the hallway. As thick smoke filled the space and obscured their movements, a panel slid up at the end of the hall, and a fusillade of high caliber ammunition was fired in a scattered pattern from floor to ceiling, shredding the walls and obliterating all within its path.
“Enough!” A voice cried, and then the corridor grew silent as the fog of gas and spent gunpowder slowly dissipated.
“They ain’t there,” said a second voice, as shouts came from behind, followed by the sounds of gunfire, screams, and death.
“They came down from the shelter! Kill them bitches now!”
The basement of the shelter was a long, wide area with sections towards the rear partitioned off with Plexiglas walls. Six, young black females ran screaming from one such area, they were all naked, save for the surgical masks they wore, they had been cutting cocaine from brick to powder form, and the lack of clothing was to avoid getting the fine powder on their street clothes, where a trained police dog might easily sniff it out.
The guards that were there to protect the drugs now turned their attention to self-defense.
He had to hold his fire for a moment as the naked women ran by, the guards had no such concerns, and one of the women suffered a wound from friendly fire.
When two bullets slammed off his chest, he staggered but continued on, and soon they were alone by a room filled with cocaine, as bodies littered the floor.
Tyler called to him.
“Some of them ran into that back room; that must be where the money is, are you ready?”
He started towards the door. “I know what to do.”
***
Inside the room, four men stared at the door as a fifth gripped an M134D Gatling Gun capable of firing sixty-five rounds a second. All eyes were glued to the door, just waiting for someone to enter, waiting to unleash the gun’s power.
KAPOOW!
The wall on the left side of the room crumbled as a mini-grenade destroyed its base, and was followed by the wall on the right.
KAPOOW!
The hoodlum manning the Gatling gun tried to swivel the weapon towards the first intruder, but two of his companions were in the way, already firing handguns, and he was unable to swing the gun around.
“Get the hell out of the way! Let me use the gun.”
He never got the chance, as two rounds entered his head, and he collapsed atop the weapon.
One of the other men pushed him off, but was shot before he could fire, then, the other three guards, two of which were wounded, ran out the door, having given up the fight.
He looked at Tyler and saw him staring at the tables, where nearly a million in cash sat waiting to be counted.
“Grab that duffle and fill it, and then we’ll go.”
“Is this how you paid for the suit?”
“Yes, but the rest goes to various charities.”
“Then, it’s a shame we can’t take it all.”
“I know, but we’re running late as it is and reinforcements are on the way.”
“I hate leaving it for them, but if we start a fire to burn it, we risk injuring a fireman.”
“I’ve solved that problem,” Tyler said, and brought out two small spray cans, one from each side of the suit. He sprayed the remaining bills with first one, and then the other can, and the money began to dissolve in instants.
“Acid?”
“Yes, but specialized, it’s designed to work with the ink on the bills.”
“Clever,”
“And expensive, it’s something else I’ve spent the money on, now let’s get out of here, we have a long night ahead.”
“One last thing,” he said.
Tyler nodded, “Yes, of course,”
He took out a small can of spray paint and wrote one word on the wall—SZABO!
***
They hit another distribution center in a nearby town, and then, knowing that the remaining ones would be on high alert, they changed their choice of targets and began destroying businesses owned by Darnell.
The vehicles of a luxury car dealership were riddled by bullets, while Darnell’s unattended yacht sank while still in its slip, and as morning dawned, it found them at a new housing site where they unloaded clip after clip of ammo into the base of the wooden frame of a new hotel.
Everywhere they went, they left behind one word—SZABO!
They arrived back at Tyler�
�s house at 6:47 in the morning. Their facemasks were off and they wore long coats to cover up their body armor.
As Tyler reached for the door, it opened and they found Jace holding a gun.
“Say hello to Tyler, Jace, it’s his home you’re protecting.”
Jace studied Tyler as he holstered his weapon.
“Damn, dude, he’s even older than you, and bigger,”
Tyler grinned. “And better looking too, how are you young man?”
“I’m good, and ready for anything,”
They took off their coats and Jace’s eyes widened. “Awesome, where can I get me one of them suits?” He studied the body armor as if it were a new sports car.
“What time did you get here, Jace?”
“I relieved Lawson's agents about an hour ago, your wife let me in and then went back to sleep, but she made coffee.”
“Thanks for coming, we don’t expect trouble here, but if it comes, I’m glad you’ll be here to face it.”
“No problem dude, I’ll keep your ladies safe.”
“We’ll be sleeping during the day and going back out again tonight, so if you need anything, now’s the time to get it.”
“I’m good, I’ve got a carton of smokes and there’s food here.”
“What did Lawson tell you about what we’re doing?”
Jace grinned.
“He said you were bringing religion to a lowlife drug dealer, and that the dude had kidnapped a friend of yours.”
“If he were only kidnapped, it would be a blessing.”
“What? Torture?”
He hung his head.
“We’ve got to get Steve back.”
CHAPTER 9
Darnell stared at the pile of putrid goo that hours before had been profit. The money had been sprayed with some sort of substance that dissolved it.
The bodies were gone, but the blood remained and the coppery odor filled the air, and on the wall was the name of the man who had taken Naomi away.
He had his driver pass by the car dealership on his way to the shelter, and had learned about the other sites of destruction as well. The yacht had also been named Naomi, and in a way, it was as if he’d lost her twice.
He turned to look at Mr. Brown.
“Two men did all this? That tall salt & pepper team that grabbed me?”
“Yeah, we have them on film but you can’t see their faces. We still don’t know who they are.”
The TAKEN! Series - Books 9-12 (Taken! Box Set Book 3) Page 13
