by Jon Mills
The two cops in the front were yakking on about some ball game when the cuffs loosened and fell away from his wrists. Had it been daytime he might not have attempted this, but with darkness working in his favor and time ticking on how long Angelo would keep her alive, he knew it was now or never. The opportunity wouldn’t present itself again. Ahead of him was what was referred to as a prisoner partition. The clear, hard plastic divider separated the rear seats from the front and prevented prisoners from spitting on the cops, as well as attempting to get at them if they managed to get out of their cuffs. The middle had a sliding section which could be opened or closed. It was currently open. Of course Jack was too big to be able to climb through it, however, he didn’t need to. He just needed to get one arm through.
He watched the road ahead and timed it just as they were coming up to a red light. The cruiser rumbled. Jack’s heart picked up the pace as he sprang into action. He lunged forward, his arm looping around the driver’s throat. His partner went for his gun, but Jack reared back his elbow and plowed it into his face twice sending the man unconscious. The cop instinctively hit the gas and the cruiser fired forward into the intersection, slamming into another vehicle and then having the tail end struck by a 4x4 truck that was coming in the opposite direction. Jack kept his arm around the officer’s throat trying to choke him out. He wasn’t looking to kill them, just overpower them and get the damn cruiser to stop. The vehicle spun, a deafening roar of the engine was followed by the crunch of metal, and sparks flying. The back window shattered as another vehicle plowed into them and they finally came to a rest. The cop’s face was turning a beet red, any second now he would go out. All it took was five to ten seconds. When his body slumped, Jack reached down, grabbed his firearm and twisted around and used his feet to kick out the remaining section of the rear window before crawling out. Outside it was a chaotic scene of crumpled vehicles, steam pouring out of the engine and one car was on fire.
As he sprinted away from the accident, heading back towards his truck, he heard several people yelling at him. Others rushed over to drag the cops out of the car before the entire cruiser caught on fire. Flames were already creeping out the sides of the hood.
Jack knew he didn’t have long before cops would be on scene and others would come looking for him. Victims at the scene of the accident would provide his description and then it would turn into a manhunt. He just needed to get her to safety. The Zodiac had taken a backseat in his mind. Though he wanted to see justice for Jason, Dana was all that mattered now.
His heart thumped in his chest as he flew down the street.
He could see a major intersection coming up. Jack scanned the street signs to check if he was getting close. He blasted across the road, earning a chorus of horns and squealing tires. Behind him there were angry shouts, but he barely noticed. He was already beginning to think of where they would have taken her. The mob had their hands in all manner of businesses. Without knowing them, he could be searching the streets for days.
An idea came to him as he reached his truck. Unlocking it and hopping in, he grabbed a cell phone out of the glove compartment and called the one person who would gladly tell him.
Nico.
Jack fired up the engine and swerved out while dialing his number.
There was a good chance he wouldn’t pick up, especially if he’d purposely set him up. He had to play this right, act as if he wasn’t aware of what Nico had done.
“Jack!” he acted all surprised. “Good to hear from you. How did it go?”
His peppy little voice made Jack want to reach down the line and strangle him. But he couldn’t act as if he was bothered.
“It was a mess, Nico. Cops are all over the place. Listen, I need to get out of the city. Do you have another contact I can use?”
There was silence on the other end, then he heard him. “Yeah, yeah, um. Just give me a minute or two. You got a number I can call you back on as your digits didn’t come up on the ID?”
Jack gave it to him and he hung up. He knew that snake in the grass was calling Angelo. In fact he was banking on it. His truck roared down the street. He veered off into a grocery parking lot, a place where he could blend in with other vehicles and not draw attention. He reached for a pack of cigarettes, and lit one to calm his nerves. This shit was spiraling out of control real fast. He waited for close to ten minutes before Nico called him back.
“You got a pen, I’ll give you the address.”
Chapter 26
Pier 1 of the Port of San Francisco was located just north of the Oakland Bay Bridge and south of Pier 33. It was close to ten at night when Jack made his way along the eastern waterfront. He knew full well that Angelo would bolt if he even got the slightest whiff of a trap that’s why he called to speak with Detective Hudson.
Although he didn’t want to do time again, he wasn’t going to jeopardize Dana’s life and Angelo would have that place crawling with his men by the time he got there. As he made his way to the entrance that fed into Pier 1, an officer connected him with Detective Hudson.
“Listen up, detective, I don’t have much time here. I know you have your hands full with the Zodiac but if you want the men responsible for the death of Wyatt Donahue, then I advise you to send a SWAT team down to Pier 1 immediately.”
“What’s going on? Where are you?”
“I’ll be there. I just don’t have time to explain.”
He hung up on her and tossed the phone on the passenger seat. Jack veered off to his right and parked in the lot of a closed Starbucks, just down from Pier 26. There were only a few other vehicles in the lot, which was nearly deserted. Off in the distance he could see countless shipping containers rising like tall buildings. He reached into the duffel bag and withdrew an XAR Invicta folding rifle. He locked the barrel into place. He slapped in a 20-round Magpul P-Mag, grabbed up another Beretta with suppressor and then slid the Glock he’d taken from the officer into his waistband. He grabbed up a few more magazines for the rifle, then took a hunting knife and exited his vehicle.
Under any other conditions he wouldn’t have called the cops but something told him he could trust this detective. He’d soon find out. He shouldered the rifle and broke into a jog circling around the perimeter of the concrete wharf full of stacked steel containers.
Jack darted down the narrow space between containers. It was a like a maze. The pier itself was lit up but casting shadows into areas around the containers. He ran at a crouch staying close to the steel. Once he made it to the end he peered around and looked down the long, wide pier. He could clearly see several of Marabelle’s men guarding the outside of a warehouse. Jack slung the rifle around him and adjusted the strap before bringing out his Beretta with suppressor. He ran back to the end of the container and used the vertical bars to climb up four 8-foot-tall containers. Once he reached the top, he quietly moved along the top getting closer to the men who were fanned out in various spots. He could see a light coming from the warehouse, and several men patrolling the perimeter. He focused in on one who had broken away from the others and squeezed off a round. It struck him in the temple bringing him down into the water. Water splashed and two more men went over to see what the noise was about. He used that momentary distraction to cross over to another set of containers. He worked his way closer to the warehouse, keeping the two that had gone to find their buddy in his eyesight at all times.
“Joey?”
One of them got on the radio while the other peered over the edge into the water.
Jack brought up his gun and aimed for his back, he squeezed off two rounds and his legs buckled. The sudden slap of water made the other one turn around. Now he was alone. Nothing but moonlight as a source of light. He started edging back, aware that he was probably in the crosshairs of a sniper. As he brought up his radio to call for backup, Jack ended him. His body slumped to the ground, and Jack worked his way down the rear of the container to go and collect the radio he’d dropped. At least this way he could hear t
hem communicating.
Moving swiftly, he disappeared into the darkness, heading in the direction of the warehouse. The sound of a vehicle engine caught his attention. He looked off to his left to see a police cruiser approaching. Its lights were on but no siren. Oh you have got to be joking, he thought. She hadn’t sent SWAT, just two cops. That was it. Then again it made sense. He’d caught her briefing the media on TV earlier that afternoon. All the news channels were playing it. She’d taken him up on his advice and now with only a window of 48 hours remaining her focus was on catching a killer, not someone who had given her the runaround.
These cops had no idea what they were walking into. The cruiser angled to a stop thirty feet away from the warehouse, and two officers hopped out. Even though they were armed, they were outmatched. Marabelle’s men were carrying semi-automatics. One of them had seen the cruiser approach and waved the other men off into the shadows. Jack watched from the safety of a container top, his eyes bouncing between the cops and Marabelle’s men who were packing some serious heat.
The mans voice carried on the wind.
“Can I help you, officers?” A bulky man walked towards them.
“Any trouble tonight?” one officer asked while his partner stayed by the cruiser.
The guy shook his head. “Nope. Should we be expecting any?”
The officer approaching Marabelle’s man scanned the area skeptically. “You mind telling me what you’re doing down here?”
“We have a large shipment of goods coming in tonight.”
“What company?”
“Tagnan and Son. Chinese food.”
Jack shook his head. As egotistical as mobsters were, they rarely used their own name in the importing and exporting game. It was probably filed under the name of someone they’d offed a long while ago or a businessman who lived outside the States, out of the reach of the U.S. government. They always had ways of getting around red tape.
From where Jack was positioned he could see the bulky man had a piece slid into the back of his waistband; he wouldn’t think twice about using it on the officer. C’mon, he thought, his eyes flitted over to the other men shouldering rifles but hidden by darkness.
“You got paperwork you can show us?”
“Certainly, just give me a minute.”
He adjusted his top so that it covered his piece and turned towards a steel trailer. While he was collecting that, the cop got on his radio, probably to update dispatch. The man emerged from the trailer and jogged over and handed it off to him. The cop lit it up with a flashlight, glanced at him a few times and then nodded. “Okay, well sorry to have bothered you.”
“Not at all. Have a good night, officers.”
Damn it. Why didn’t she listen to me? He didn’t want regular cops getting caught up in this, they weren’t prepared for an all-out war with the mob. He didn’t want to give away his position but it seemed he had no other choice.
Jack slipped down on to his belly on top of one of the containers and aimed at the windshield of the police cruiser. He just needed to get their attention. Give them a reason to call for backup. He timed the shot just when the officer returned to the cruiser and gave a nod.
Crack!
The windshield’s glass shattered, and both cops pulled their handguns.
All hell broke loose. Whether they were ready or not, this was going down. Rounds echoed in the night as an onslaught of gunfire erupted. The guy who’d originally approached them slinked back under the cover of Marabelle’s men who were now pushing forward unleashing hell upon the cruiser. Both cops dived into the car and quickly reversed back at a high rate of speed as the front of their cruiser was peppered with rounds. The cruiser swerved all over the pier and nearly came close to the edge at one point.
But they weren’t the only ones knee-deep in shit.
His decision to pull the trigger had given away his location
Under heavy fire from their semi-automatics, he slipped down the side of a container. Sparks ignited as rounds hit the surrounding steel. Jack tucked the Beretta away and shouldered the rifle. He backed up into darkness as the gunfire intensified.
* * *
“I told you to send in SWAT!” Hudson yelled at Romero who said he’d handle it.
“Hudson, all our resources right now have been thrown into this operation. That’s our focus. Not following a lead from a known criminal.”
She tossed her cell phone at him and he caught it.
“Then you better speak with these officers as you’re the one who called it in.”
Hudson walked off into the kitchen where several other officers were. She’d called off the sting operation as they hadn’t seen any movement in over six hours.
Romero got on the phone.
“Yeah. Right.” He nodded. His brow furrowed. “Then send in SWAT.”
He got off the phone and stood there for a few seconds. “I don’t think we should call off tonight.”
“You also didn’t think to send in SWAT and look where that’s got us. We nearly lost two officers, one of them was hit.”
“I didn’t know, Hudson.”
“Yeah, well you do now.”
She scooped up her jacket and went and grabbed the keys to her SUV.
“Where are you going?”
“To help.”
“But…”
“No buts. We are done here tonight.”
She swung open the door of the apartment and left the rest of the team speechless.
* * *
Even though he knew SWAT would eventually get the situation under control, he was aware that probably wouldn’t happen without loss of life — more specifically Dana’s life. Jack circled around, hiding in the shadows, and four men rushed past looking for him. He ducked out and hurried towards the warehouse. He felt like he was going for a touchdown against an entire football team. Except instead of trying to tackle, they would kill him.
Jack scrambled, stopping and starting until he was within fifty feet of the side door. There were two armed men outside, on alert. Jack squeezed off two rounds and then burst out of the shadows rushing towards the door. Concrete tore up around him as rounds lanced the ground. He twisted and returned fire in an arcing pattern causing them to seek cover.
Once he made it inside the doorway, he could hear voices, Angelo’s bellowing at his other men. The inside of the warehouse was full of pallets of boxes wrapped in clear tight wrapping. Some of it was scattered all over the floor. He slipped between the pallets trying to get a bead on Dana.
“Get the boat. You idiots.”
Just as he locked sight with them he heard movement. A tip of a barrel was pushed into his neck. “That’s it, go ahead and drop it.”
Jack slid the strap off his shoulder and dropped it to the floor. As he did it, he turned his head ever so slightly causing the barrel to slide away from his neck. In one fast motion he wheeled around and with his other hand pulled the hunting knife and sliced him across the face. The man’s gun went off, unleashing several rounds before Jack brought him down and drove the blade under his chin, deep into his skull. All of it happened in less than thirty seconds. He scooped up his rifle and began firing.
Marabelle’s men scattered while Angelo grabbed Dana by the hair and dragged her towards the rear exit. In the distance he could hear sirens loudly wailing. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against all Marabelle’s men, there were too many.
He prepared himself for the onslaught, but it all changed in an instant at the sound of approaching squad cars. Marabelle’s men fanned out in every direction, as Angelo hurried for the rear exit still dragging Dana. Jack ducked between boxes while Vinny continued to riddle them with rounds. Jack returned fire, striking Vinny in the chest multiple times. His feet lifted off the ground, and his legs flailed as he fell back against a vehicle.
Angelo was gone, the rear fire exit closing behind him.
He moved fast, kicking the door open and ducking to one side as Angelo fired. The second it stopp
ed he was out the door and scrambling for cover. Out of ammo, Jack tossed the magazine and slapped another in and took off in pursuit. Out the corner of his eye he saw a SWAT truck barreling down the pier, along with six cop cars. Lights flashing. He pressed on towards the boat that Angelo had boarded. The motor growled to life, a guttural sound as water kicked up behind it. Angelo turned for a second to guide the boat out and Jack saw his opportunity. He sprinted forward and launched himself off the pier, landing hard in the back of the sixty-foot powerboat. Jack charged into him crushing him against the steering wheel. The boat shot forward, and they fell back into the stern. Dana got up to gain control of the boat as Jack wrestled for control of a handgun that Angelo was still holding. It erupted twice near his face, causing his ears to ring. Jack reared his head back and head-butted him. Angelo’s nose burst like a fire hydrant, and then Jack slammed his fist against his Adam’s apple causing him to gasp, and cry out in agony.
A few more jabs to the face and he was out cold.
Within a matter of a minute he’d disarmed him and tossed the gun overboard.
Dana gained control of the boat by adjusting the throttle. Jack kept his arm against the side of his neck, pinning him to the floor of the boat as Dana swung the boat around and headed back to the pier. Jack could have killed him, he wanted to, but he knew prison would be a worse fate for a man like him.
On the way back in, Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out keys.
“Dana, listen to me. Take these. Once we get back, they’re going to take me in.”
“Jack.”
“No, listen. These are for my place in Telluride, Colorado. The address is engraved into the bronze keychain. Get away from San Francisco. If I manage to get out of this, I promise, I’ll join you there.”
