Burn Zone

by James O. Born

  Duarte looked up. "He surprised me; I just reacted." He eased his hold on the prone man and then helped him to a sitting position. "Now we find out what's going on."

  She saw the recognition in Floyd's face as he looked up at her. His eyes opened wide as she thought about her options.

  Duarte said, "Okay, tell us what you brought out of New Orleans."

  Ike looked up at Lina. "Why? The FBI never listened to me before."

  Lina heard his bitterness and thought that it might even be justified.

  Duarte was more confused. "What's that mean?"

  Lina cut in. "Don't worry about it."

  Duarte twisted his head to glare at her. "You're still going to keep your source and his information from us? After all we've done?"

  "It's not that simple. We…" She stopped when she saw Duarte cock his head and stop paying any attention to her at all. Lina said, "What is it?"

  "We're not alone."

  "Félix is probably awake."

  Duarte was clear in his tone. "No, it's someone else."

  ***

  Pelly saw the cars stopped under the light in another warehouse's parking lot. His police training and instinct told him to be very careful and not let anyone see his car. There were no other vehicles in the neighborhood this time of night. He pulled the Impala off the road into the small lot of a business wedged in between two large warehouse complexes.

  Even from a distance he could see someone move quickly to pull a man from a pickup truck. He left his car, checked his little Beretta and darted closer to the parked cars. Finding cover in the darkness and shrubs, he easily covered the distance between his car and the truck.

  He settled near a bush where he could clearly see the two men who were now on the ground.

  One was holding the other down.

  Then Pelly saw the woman, and it only took a second for him to realize it was Lina, the FBI agent who had seen him clean-shaven. He looked at the men more closely, and then saw the man being subdued was Ike Floyd. What happened to the Ryder rental truck? Whose pickup truck was that?

  He lowered his head and started to move to a better position to decide if he had to take action. He scurried along a low line of planted shrubs away from the two parked vehicles to approach at a different angle. He crept closer now, using the cars to cover his approach. The downside was that he lost sight of the people at the cars, too.

  Alongside the Cobalt, he started to reach for his Beretta as he peeked around the corner of the car toward the big pickup truck.

  The first thing he saw was the barrel of a Glock right in front of his face. And heard a man say, "Don't move."

  51

  ALEX DUARTE HAD SENSED THE FIGURE MOVING CLOSER TO THE car and then took a guess at which end of the vehicle the intruder would try to use for cover. It was the same thing he would've done. He had his Glock out and waiting as a shadow-covered face came into view.

  Duarte said, "Don't move." Not a shout, just a simple command.

  In a blur, he saw a movement, and, before he could react, felt the gun fly from his hand and heard it chatter on the ground.

  In an instant, he saw the flash of a pistol and, using his own considerable speed, swatted it from the man's hand. He felt a fist as he instinctively bobbed his head and fended off the blow with his right hand. Duarte rolled to one side, and his attacker moved in the opposite direction so they could assess one another.

  Then, as he focused on the man's face for the first time and the light from the streetlight fell on him, Duarte simply said, "You."

  The man, equally astonished, said, "You."

  The hairy first mate of the Flame of Panama recognized Duarte, too.

  Duarte let a small smile spread across his face. He'd been waiting to meet this guy.

  The man said, "What's so funny?" He had a noticeable Spanish accent.

  Duarte said, "You'll find out."

  "Or maybe you'll be surprised." The hairy man moved to his left, alert and ready for action. "I like your moves. You're quick and precise."

  "You're pretty quick yourself."

  "I work at it."

  Duarte smiled a little more. "Me, too." Then, as the man stood, Duarte saw the first front kick blast toward him. He blocked it hard and followed up with a round kick to the man's ribs. He took most of the blow but managed a hard elbow into Duarte as he threw the kick.

  They tumbled toward each other and then over a low row of shrubs, each managing to throw a punch or kick along the way until they were well in front of the parked truck, both men panting and battered a little.

  Duarte realized he was in a fight with the first guy that was as well trained and in as good a shape as himself. He'd always liked the advantage, and now knew what it was like to face someone who prepared for fights as hard as he did. This was not a Bruce Willis movie. This was a good old-fashioned street fight.

  Duarte hoped the fight might wake up Félix in the parked Cobalt. At least he might distract this guy long enough for Duarte to regain the advantage. Lina was busy with Floyd.

  They moved from side to side, and then the hairy man backed up, a little at a time, the whole way feinting with punches and kicks. Duarte didn't realize what he had been planning until it was too late. The first mate had backed to his pistol, which had come to rest way back in this part of the parking lot, twenty feet from their first encounter.

  Duarte tried to spring onto the man, but the latter was far too quick, reaching down and covering Duarte with the small handgun.

  The hairy man took a second to catch his breath and said, "Sorry, I wish we had time to finish this. You're the biggest challenge I've ever faced."

  Duarte kept his eyes on the man, looking for a weakness or opening. The man had retreated just far enough to ensure his ability to hold Duarte at bay. He obviously knew what he was doing, and now Duarte wondered how he could've let this killer gain the advantage. All he knew was that this guy wouldn't hesitate to kill him or Lina.

  ***

  William "Ike" Floyd was scared and shaking as the FBI chick, Lina, leaned on him with that autopistol of hers screwed into his right ear. She didn't seem nervous, and he had no idea what they had planned for him.

  Lina leaned in close to him and said, "Who's out there?"

  "Don't know. Probably Pelly," he panted.

  "Who?" The name had a ring to it.

  "Pelly. He works for Mr. Ortíz." His voice cracked as he spoke.

  That caught all of her attention. "Ortíz is here?"

  "I think so. I haven't seen him yet."

  Lina shifted her weight and moved away from him slightly. Then she said, "Sorry, Ike, I can't have you blabbing about things."

  He sensed a tension in her hand and blurted out, "You can't just kill me, you're an FBI agent."

  "I have to kill you because I'm an FBI agent."

  "I won't tell, I promise. I've never told anyone."

  The FBI agent seemed to tense, and Ike knew what was coming. He involuntarily squeezed his eyes shut and hoped he wouldn't pee in his jeans as he waited for the imminent blast from the pistol.

  ***

  Duarte walked well in front of the first mate and didn't even bother to raise his hands. The guy already knew what to expect from Duarte and was pretty fast himself. He still hoped Félix would enter the fray and wondered what Lina would do when she saw them. The first mate marched him directly toward Lina and William Floyd, and he could just make out their forms as he moved forward.

  Then Duarte stopped as he saw Lina and realized she had her gun to Floyd's head. He was lying on his side with his eyes squeezed closed, and Lina looked ready to execute him. At first he thought it might be an interrogation tactic, but then he realized she intended to pull the trigger.

  Behind him, in an amazingly calm voice, the first mate said, "Don't do it."

  Lina's head snapped up, and she hesitated about where to point her pistol.

  The first mate said, "Shoot him, Lina, and I'll shoot your friend here."


  Duarte was startled. How did this guy know Lina's name?

  Lina looked at them and slowly lowered her pistol. Duarte felt a shove from behind and moved forward in a daze of confusion.

  ***

  He sat across from Lina as the first mate, whose name was Pelly, had instructed. Duarte's head hurt from all the questions he had. He looked over at William Floyd, who seemed to cower next to Lina. She kept the gun to his temple in an effort to discourage Pelly from shooting Duarte.

  Lina had just explained her brief meeting with Pelly in a bar.

  Pelly rubbed his furry face and said to Lina, "You saw me clean-shaven. Quite the difference, no?"

  Her dark eyes stared at the simian-like man.

  Duarte said, "Lina, don't give up your gun. I've seen this guy's work. He's not gonna let us go."

  Pelly gave him an odd look. "What work have you seen of mine?"

  "The U-Haul mechanic."

  "Oh, yeah, that was me."

  "The young couple in Lafayette."

  Pelly tilted his head. "That was my friend Ike's work."

  William Floyd kept looking at the asphalt, apparently not too proud of shooting the young people. Ike mumbled. "What's it matter now? Yeah, I did it." His eyes occasionally darting to the gun barrel near his head.

  Duarte continued. "Cal Linley in New Orleans, and I almost had you at Forrest Jessup's house in Mississippi."

  Pelly shook his head. "I had nothing to do with those men. I don't even know who they are."

  Ike's head snapped up. "Cal and President Jessup are dead?"

  Duarte had always had some problems reading people. It just wasn't one of his strengths. But Pelly had admitted to some killings. Duarte didn't get the sense that either of these two were lying about other murders.

  Duarte looked at Ike and asked, "What did you guys bring in?"

  "What do I have to bargain with if I tell you?"

  Duarte didn't know why he might want to bargain. He tried to look like he was focusing on Ike, but his eyes scanned down to his own pistol tucked in Pelly's belt. The first mate squatted just far enough away. He knew his tactics.

  Duarte thought he saw a slight nod from Pelly, then Ike threw his weight toward Lina, knocking her off balance.

  Duarte started to move, but felt the barrel of the Beretta against his neck.

  Across from him, Ike now had the advantage, as he used his much greater size to wrench the gun away from Lina. He backed away, holding up the small automatic.

  He looked at Duarte and said, "Guess I don't need to bargain now. We brought in a nuclear weapon."

  52

  ALEX DUARTE SHIFTED HIS WEIGHT, TRYING TO KEEP LINA FROM cutting off the blood flow to his legs in case he had the chance to act. Pelly had used Duarte's handcuffs to secure his arms around Lina in a bear hug in the bench seat of the F-150 pickup truck, tucked between William "Ike" Floyd and Pelly, who kept his Beretta in his hand.

  They had managed to leave the area without waking Félix. His captors never even realized he was in the car. Duarte wanted to keep his DEA friend out of this now. He would've just been another hostage. Duarte figured that maybe Félix was just too drunk to wake up. In any event, no one noticed the sleeping DEA man.

  What really concerned him now was the idea that the entire dope deal had been a cover to smuggle in a nuclear weapon and he had fallen for it every step of the way. The real questions he had now focused on Ike's relationship to the FBI and who had killed Cal Linley and Forrest Jessup.

  Duarte said, "So, Lina, you two met in a bar?"

  Pelly snorted.

  Lina turned her head to the hairy man. "I didn't peg you as a killer in that little disco."

  "Nor did I guess your occupation." He cut his eyes to Duarte to make sure he was secure and not trying some diversion. That impressed Duarte. This guy was sharp.

  Then Pelly said, "Lina, why were you about to shoot my friend Ike back there?"

  William "Ike" Floyd said, "I'll tell you why."

  Duarte could feel Lina tense on his lap.

  Pelly said, "Please, Ike, tell us." He looked like he was enjoying this.

  Ike said, "Because the FBI doesn't want people to know I'm the third man at Oklahoma City."

  Duarte had heard the theory that a third man-besides Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols-who worked for the FBI had walked away from the bombing, but it was always espoused by some gun nut or militia creep. Occasionally a cop would believe it, too, but Duarte had always dismissed it as a fantasy of the fringe groups.

  Ike continued, "I told them about the plot. They had me by the short hairs, and I did my job. I told them what was happening, and no one believed me until it was too late." He sounded like he might cry he was so upset. "I couldn't tell my friends I was involved, because then the FBI woulda called me a…"

  Duarte finished his sentence. "A child molester."

  Ike snapped his head toward the ATF agent. "Yeah, exactly."

  It made too much sense to be a lie, and Lina's silence confirmed it for Duarte.

  Duarte leaned forward slightly and said to the FBI agent, "You were never sent to help us. You were sent to keep him quiet."

  She remained silent.

  Duarte felt like an idiot.

  ***

  Ike felt some sort of release to finally say out loud what he had done. Sure, the FBI knew it, but they had scared him into silence years before. He never realized how serious they were until this bitch, Lina, was about to kill him to keep him quiet.

  He had been mesmerized by the news following the blast when the news anchors had blabbed on and on about John Doe #2. After Timothy McVeigh had been arrested by an Oklahoma state trooper, everyone had seemed to focus on that numbskull. No one ever asked how smart he was. Sure, he was crazy, as crazy as anyone Ike had ever met, but he was a dumb-ass. So was his buddy Terry Nichols. Once those two were fingered, no one asked if anyone else was involved, and "John Doe #2," Ike, had faded from the public consciousness.

  Over the years, so had the bombing. After 9/11, no one seemed to care about Oklahoma City. Middle Easterners were all anyone talked about.

  Now, years after he had anguished about working with the FBI, he had said it out loud: He was John Doe #2.

  But that didn't mean he was sold on Mr. Ortíz's crazy-assed idea.

  ***

  Pelly liked hearing other people's secrets come out. He had no idea that Ike had such an interesting history. The whole story sounded like one of Colonel Staub's elaborate plans.

  As they approached the big warehouse, Pelly said to Ike, "You did well getting such a low-profile truck."

  Ike just nodded.

  Once the truck stopped, Pelly slipped out and orchestrated the two federal agents' exit from the high vehicle. He allowed Lina to slip out of the embrace, leaving Duarte handcuffed in front. He nodded toward the door, and everyone started shuffling that way.

  As they entered the large area where the professor's vehicle was parked inside by the small glass office, Pelly stopped and stared. He couldn't believe it. In front of him stood Colonel Staub standing over the still, naked body of Professor Tuznia. She was draped over her case of tools, her large breasts hanging to one side as her head lolled down toward the floor. Her dark eyes were still wide open.

  Colonel Staub looked up at Pelly and his captive, but said only, "Make no comment. I have already arranged for an alternative."

  "So fast?" asked Pelly.

  "Money can do wonders." He cut his eyes to Duarte and Lina. "And we can deal with these two at the same time." He smiled at their expressions. "Yes, my young friends. Nothing is ever as it appears." He walked toward them. "I could ask how you found us, but it does not matter now." He winked at Lina.

  Lina mumbled, "Asshole."

  Colonel Staub stepped closer, standing next to the small office. "I should have a little extra time to deal with you, Lina." He looked at Pelly. "Where is the third member of your little group? The DEA man."

  Pelly answered, "I
didn't see him. These two had Ike in a parking lot down the road."

  Suddenly, the glass to the office shattered, at the same time the thunder of a gunshot echoed through the giant metal structure.

  Pelly ducked, drew his Beretta and scanned the large storage area. There were several doors an assailant could've entered. He raised his pistol, seeking a target.

  He glanced at his prisoners and was shocked to see that Duarte had managed to vanish in that second of distraction. Lina still stood, shocked, next to Colonel Staub.

  The colonel looked at Pelly and said, "Take the bomb somewhere safe. You know what to do. Make it quick."

  Pelly fired two shots as he moved. He grabbed Ike's arm and dragged him toward the door, too. He heard return fire, but thought it was directed more toward the colonel.

  In a matter of seconds, he and Ike had the truck with the bomb and were headed down the street.

  53

  ONCE ALEX DUARTE HEARD THE FIRST SHOT, HE ACTED WITHOUT hesitation, ducking slightly and running first to the side, as Pelly focused his attention toward the shooter, then back into the rows of stacked merchandise. The tall shelves allowed him to disappear in a matter of seconds.

  He heard a few more shots and some return fire as he turned down one row toward the sound of the shots. He knew it was Félix Baez. No one could've slept through that racket back at the truck. He'd really used his head, following the pickup truck back to the warehouse.

  "Félix," shouted Duarte.

  "Here," came one quick response, but it was enough, and Duarte found his friend.

  Félix crouched behind a shelf. "I was hoping Lina would make a break, too. Now we gotta get her back." He turned and fumbled with his DEA identification, where, like all good cops, he had an extra handcuff key secured. He had Duarte free quickly.

  Félix said, "The hairy guy and Floyd just ducked out the front door."