by Derek Blass
Sandra wondered how the Chief could know all of this. What “bird” had this kind of inside knowledge? It seemed doubtful that Martinez would feed the Chief information. Cruz didn't even know the Chief. And then it dawned on Sandra. She tried to figure out how this creep Tyler got to the hospital where Martinez was nearly as fast as she and Cruz. The only person that knew where they were going? Diego. Same thing here. The common denominator is Diego. But why? Why would he stab both her and Cruz in the back? Sandra had no answer to that question.
As Sandra thought about this she wiggled her wrists and ankles in an attempt to loosen her bindings. It was no use, though, as there was hardly any play between the bindings and her body. She heard the elevator start up. When it reached the top the Chief stepped off and called for Tyler. He whispered something in Tyler's ear, who then came her way.
Tyler hooked his arms in Sandra's armpits and dragged her to the elevator. At first she struggled, but then stopped as there was no purpose.
“Given up, have you?” Tyler said with a smirk. Sandra glared at him. “It'll all be over soon, princess.” The elevator reached the basement and Tyler pulled her out. She hung loosely as the hall they were in took shape backwards. It was cold, disturbingly sanitary and humming with overhead lights. Sandra watched as one, then two, then three doors passed. Tyler pulled her into a room and went to turn a light on. Sandra turned her upper body to see what was behind her, and when Tyler flicked the light on she shrieked. It was a stainless steel operating table.
“Let's get you up there,” Tyler groaned as he tried to pick Sandra up. Now she struggled. With every ounce of energy in her body she kicked, head butted and tried to shoulder Tyler away. “This...isn't going...to stop the inevitable,” Tyler gasped as he worked to contain her struggle. Eventually the fight in Sandra died down, although not from desire. Her body was exhausted.
Tyler lifted her onto the operating table and put her on her back. He first strapped her down to the table with duct tape around her chest. Then he wrapped the tape around her waist and ankles. Finally, he wrapped tape around her forehead, completely immobilizing her.
This was horror. At least before she was only bound by her hands and her feet. She could move, shift and struggle, albeit in vain. Now, Sandra was essentially in a straight jacket. Tyler leaned over her and smiled. The fear in her eyes made him excited. He ran his hand over her neck and watched as goosebumps rose. He got closer, breathed her fear in and then licked her forehead.
“My God,” he said, “I love that taste.” Tyler grabbed the piece of cloth tied in Sandra's mouth and pulled it down a bit. She whimpered and he pulled it down some more. “If you don't scream I'll take this out,” he said as he looked at her. “Are you going to scream?” Sandra shook her head no. Tyler reached behind her head and untied the cloth. Sandra drew a long breath in.
“There...see, I'm not all bad.” Tyler stayed close to Sandra and put his ear close to her mouth. Her short, shallow breaths aroused him even more. “Oh yeah, that's nice,” he whispered. He put his hand in his pants and started to rub himself. Just as he did Sandra thrust her chin up and bit through the bottom half of his earlobe.
“Fuck!!!!!!!” he screamed as he pulled back. Blood streamed down his neck and into his shirt. She cackled as he spun in a circle. “You bitch!! I fucking did you a favor! Now I'm gonna make this reallllly fucking uncomfortable.” Tyler pulled the light over the operating table down to just inches above Sandra's face. He turned it on and Sandra was instantly blinded.
“Turn it off!” she shrieked.
“Screw you. Fucking die under that light.” Tyler left the room muttering about killing Sandra as he ascended to the first floor in the elevator. The Chief was there to greet him when he got to the top.
“What the hell happened to you?” the Chief asked.
“That bitch bit me.”
“What were you doing that close to her and why was her gag out?” the Chief asked even though he already knew the answer. “Your sickness is a liability, Tyler. Start barring up the doors and let's get this wrapped up. I'd expect them here any...”
A loud crash from the front door interrupted the Chief's sentence. He saw Martinez rush into the house with his gun raised. Tyler started firing his gun as Martinez dove behind a couch. The bullets from Tyler's gun ripped through walls and furniture in search of Martinez. The Chief kept his gun fixed on the front door. He heard Martinez scream, “Stay back!!”
In the dusky light the Chief was able to see a head pass by a window on his left.
“Tyler, it's time to get out of here.”
“What about the girl?”
“Forget her, there are more people outside. We're about to get cornered. Plus, this isn't the only card up my sleeve.” He turned and ran out of a back door with Tyler following close behind him. As Tyler came out of the house he caught a figure in his peripheral vision. He instinctively hit the ground and was about to fire when the Chief yelled, “No!” The figure was about twenty feet from Tyler, with his gun raised as well. No one fired. Tyler jumped up and followed the Chief to their car which was parked around the block. They both fell in and the Chief hurriedly started it.
“Where are we going?”
The Chief took a second to catch his breath and then responded, “Mexico.”
* * * *
Martinez crouched down and leaned on the front door of the house the Chief designated as the meeting place. Cruz was on the left side of the door. Martinez noticed that he looked pale and shaky.
“You okay?” Martinez whispered.
“Yeah, yeah,” Cruz answered. “Shit, are you okay? You're the one that's hurt.”
He looked down at his bandaged leg. It hurt like hell, but adrenaline currently outweighed sense. “Nah, this is nothing. Don't forget the game plan. I go in first, then you wait for me to give the signal before you come in. If you break that rule I can almost guarantee you'll get killed.” Cruz nodded his head. “You two,” Martinez started while looking at Diego and Alfonso, “you two head around the back. I expect the Chief to make a break for it.”
“How do you know that?” Diego asked.
“'Cause he's a coward.” Martinez shifted his weight onto his other leg. “Head around to the back of the house.” While those two moved slowly around to their position, Martinez looked at Cruz and said, “Go time.” With that he sprung up and kicked the front door near the handle with such force that the jamb splintered and sent wood shards flying. Cruz watched as Martinez calmly moved into the home. It seemed like gunshots simultaneously rang out and Cruz slid down to the ground. He peeked around into the house and saw Martinez taking cover behind a couch.
“Stay back!!” Martinez screamed at him. Martinez held his gun up to the couch and fired three blind shots through it. Two shots rang back at him and then an unsettling silence took over.
“Martinez? What's going on?” Cruz looked into the house again and saw Martinez crawl to one end of the couch. Cruz decided it was time to jump in and bolted through the doorway. He slid behind the couch. The silence remained unchanged.
“What the hell, Martinez?”
“I don't know. I think they left.”
“Nothing back here!” Cruz heard Diego yell from the back of the house.
Martinez rose cautiously and scanned the room in front of them. “I think it's all right to get up,” he said.
Cruz stood up slowly and looked at the room. There didn't appear to be any signs of people. “Martinez, where is she?”
“No idea, check the rooms over there,” he answered, pointing to two rooms in the corner of the house. Cruz checked the first room which was empty. As he came out of the room he ran into Diego and Alfonso.
“You see Sandra?” Cruz asked.
“Nothing,” Diego answered.
“There was an elevator when we came in the back of the house though,” Alfonso said.
“Okay...what the hell are you doing up here then?” Cruz said as he moved to the back of the house.
Martinez was already on the elevator. Cruz could hear a faint, high-pitched noise coming from below him.
“Get in!” Martinez yelled.
“Coming...coming,” Cruz panted as he ran to get in.
“You and Alfonso stay up here and make sure no one comes back,” Martinez said to Diego as the elevator descended. The high-pitched noise grew louder. The elevator reached a basement floor and Martinez stepped off in front of Cruz. Cruz pushed past Martinez towards the noise, which was now distinguishable as Sandra screaming. He ran into the room where the screaming was coming from and froze in horror. Sandra was duct-taped to an operating table. An overhead light was pulled down just over her face. The exposed areas of her face were red and blistered.
“Sandra!” Cruz shouted as he ran to her. He shoved the light away when he saw Sandra and screamed to Martinez. “Martinez, get in here!!” Martinez came running in and pulled a knife out. He cut the tape securing Sandra to the operating table and Cruz pulled her off. Sandra still had her eyes shut and was screaming unintelligibly every few seconds.
“It's me Sandra...Cruz! You're all right, you're all right Sandra. Take a breath,” Cruz said as he held Sandra close to him.
“Let's get her out of here,” Martinez said. “The shock won't wear off until we get her out.”
“Tell Diego to call an ambulance.” Sandra's eyes suddenly opened wide.
“No...no, Cruz. No Diego,” Sandra cried.
“What?”
“Keep him away. He's...he betrayed us...” Sandra's head fell onto Cruz's shoulder as she got this out.
“She fainted,” Martinez said. “Let me tell Diego to get that ambulance here.”
“No! Didn't you hear her?”
“Cruz, she's in shock, she's just been tortured. Who knows what she was talking about.”
“Listen, I've been having some weird feelings about Diego anyways. I think she may know something we don't.”
“Well, Diego isn't gonna do shit to us right now, so let's move upstairs, okay?”
“Sure, we'll go upstairs, but don't let Diego call the ambulance.”
Cruz carried Sandra to the elevator and they went upstairs. Diego and Alfonso were waiting on the top floor.
“How is she?” Diego asked.
“Not good...not good at all.” They all looked down at Sandra's face which had blister bubbles all over it. Her eyes were just starting to flutter. “She fainted almost as soon as we got down there.”
“What the hell did those perros do to her?” Diego asked angrily as he gently touched Sandra's wrist. Cruz and Martinez were silent. “Let's go set her down in the room with the bed.” Cruz followed with Sandra in his arms and set her down on the bed. Alfonso came in with a damp towel and gently placed it on Sandra's forehead.
“I'm gonna call an ambulance,” Cruz said.
“Are you sure?” Diego asked. “I can do that so you can stay here with Sandra.”
Cruz looked at Diego apprehensively, “No, I'll do it.” He stepped right outside of the room and dialed 9-1-1. Sandra screamed in the room just as Cruz finished telling the dispatcher the address they were at.
“What the hell is going on?” Cruz shouted as he bolted back into the room. Sandra was wide-eyed.
“Cruz, Cruz, get him...get me to home...he's dangerous, Cruz...he knows!” Sandra whimpered.
“She screamed as soon as she saw me. I don't know what's going on,” Diego said. Martinez came into the room and stood silently behind Cruz.
“What's going on is that you betrayed us!” Cruz blurted out.
Diego laughed but Cruz noted that his face reddened a bit, “You've got to be kidding me. Why would I betray you two? I've known you two since you were little kids!”
“You tell me, Diego,” Cruz said as he took a menacing step toward Diego. Alfonso pulled his shoulders back and took a step forward as well. “You don't need to get involved in this, you fucking ape,” Cruz seethed at Alfonso. “You tell me how the hell that goon knew we were going to be at the hospital to find Martinez.”
“Really? All they had to do was make the same deductions we made. There's no magic to that,” Diego responded.
“And then how did they know we were going to be here when we got here? They were ready for us! They were ready for us to attack!”
“How the hell would I know? They probably heard us pull up.”
“Bullshit!”
“He called him a bird...” Sandra whispered.
“What?” Diego asked.
Cruz moved over to Sandra and pushed Diego aside. Sandra looked at him and motioned for him to get closer, “The Chief, he called Diego his little bird. They knew you were coming and that you weren't going to make the exchange.” Diego strained to hear what Sandra was saying.
“What's she saying?” Diego inquired. Cruz spun around with his gun drawn on Diego. Alfonso raised his gun and pointed it at Cruz.
“Put it down Cruz!” he screamed.
“Please,” Diego said with a laugh, “you don't even know how to use that Cruz.”
“She said that the Chief called you his little bird and that you told him we weren't coming here to exchange the video.”
“Again, show me a motive,” Diego said.
“I don't need a motive. Coincidence is quite enough.”
“You're going to shoot me? Go to jail for the rest of your life for coincidence?” Cruz considered what Diego said.
“Wait a second,” Martinez jumped in. “What else did you tell them?”
“Listen up kids. I didn't tell those two anything!” It was Martinez's turn as he raised his gun and placed it on Alfonso's temple. Cruz's hand started to shake. Diego shook his head and looked sideways at Cruz.
“Come clean old man, or your son gets lit up. I'm fucking crazy right now, so you don't need to ask me about jail. I'm ready!” Martinez exclaimed.
Diego looked at all of the guns. The one pointed in between his eyes. The one pointed at his son's head. Most importantly, he considered Sandra, who was now unconscious on the floor. His actions led to the harm she had faced—that beautiful, little girl. That and the weight of living with lies and guilt for so many years finally broke his resolve. “Alfonso,” he said, “put your gun down.”
“Hell no Dad.”
“Do what I said!” Alfonso hesitated but then slowly lowered his gun.
“Lower your guns too and I'll tell you what's going on,” Diego said.
“Tell Alfonso to drop his first,” Martinez demanded.
“Go ahead Alfonso, do what he said.” Alfonso threw his gun on the ground. Martinez put a hand out to Cruz and they both lowered their guns as well.
“I can't believe it came to this...” Diego lamented.
“Well it has, so let's hear it,” Martinez retorted.
Diego paused and then took a deep breath, “It was a long time ago now. If Alfonso is twenty-three...it must have been about twenty years ago.” Diego dropped into a chair next to the bed. “I was a pretty radical activist back in the day. We took a war-is-first approach. Police brutality was no rare occurrence back then. The cops beat up one of the members of the radical organization I was a part of so badly he ended up dying. In retaliation, I was part of a group that bombed the police station and killed several cops.”
“What's that have to do with the Chief?” Cruz asked.
“The Chief was newly appointed back then and something he's always been smart about is getting people to owe him. When the ensuing investigation was about to reveal that I led the bombing, the Chief contacted me to see if I wanted to make a deal.”
“What kind of a deal?”
“He would impede the investigation enough that my involvement would never come out. In return, I was to be his informant.”
“You work for the cops?” Alfonso asked incredulously.
“I don't work for them. I was indebted to the Chief...he owned me. If you had just given him the drive this wouldn't have happened! But, you had to go all fucking warrior on them, Ma
rtinez.”
“Look, this story is fucking scintillating but I still want to know what the hell else you told the Chief,” Martinez said.
Diego looked down at the ground.
“Well?? What the hell did you tell them?!”
Without looking up Diego said, “I told them where your wife is.”
T W E N T Y-S I X
__________________________________________________
Tyler and the Chief split up shortly after leaving the doctor's house. Tyler was to go finish Shaver off, while the Chief jetted down to Mexico to find Martinez's wife.
It was the middle of an especially dark night as Tyler drove to Shaver's home. He was starting to feel the effects of going nearly two days without sleep. Objects in his periphery startled him. His vision was blurred. Sounds were distorted, distant and haunting. He was having cognitive problems. The steering wheel felt like a writhing snake in his hands.
A computerized, female voice spoke through the speakers of his car, “Turn left in two hundred feet.” Tyler took the left and then followed a long, dark country road for another mile. The headlights of his vehicle were the only source of illumination. They lit a swath in front of him that seemed to promise something menacing around every corner. The female voice spoke to him again, “Your destination is five hundred feet away.”
Tyler brought the vehicle to a stop and shut off the headlights. He grabbed a flashlight out of the center console and checked the clip in his gun to make sure it was loaded. A bitter, fall wind blasted Tyler when he opened the door and stepped out onto the dirt road. He closed the door quietly and stood next to the car as his eyes adjusted to the dark. A solitary dog bark in the distance stole through the still night.
