“That’s number 30. Switch off the lights and drive slowly.” Carlos said.
The street was quiet. That would count in their favor.
They came to a standstill across the house.
“Looks like the fun started without us,” Badrick pointed to the curtains dancing in the light breeze.
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“Where is this guy?” Carlos said irritated and got out of the truck. He slammed the door. Badrick threw his arms in the air inside and then hit one palm against his forehead. He jumped out, leaving his own door open.
“What the hell was that?!” He whispered, “You said to be quiet!”
“Look at that, Badrick!” He pointed to the shattered window, “What makes you think he’s still in there?”
The two men jumped off from the back and looked around.
Carlos fumbled in his pocket and brought his phone up to his ear, “Yeah?”
“Good of you to come. I was getting impatient.” A guttural voice said. Carlos had never met Romero before, but it could only be him.
“Where are you?” Carlos circled a few times, scanning the area.
“Don’t tire yourself, you won’t see me. I’m in position in case you mess up. The cop is hurt and has nowhere to go.”
“When are you coming to us?”
“I’m not.”
Carlos clenched his jaw. How would they explain that to Leo?
“Can we get a move on? I haven’t got all night.” Romero hissed.
Carlos hated him immediately. He detested it when people disrespected him. He hung up the phone. “I’ll slit your throat and remove your tongue…”
“What’s that?” Badrick asked.
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Carlos turned to him, “Nothing.” He looked to the two men with them, “You two, go check out the house.”
The two cautiously crossed the street. As they neared the broken window to enter, they fell to the ground—almost in unison.
“What the hell?!” Badrick was infuriated and readied himself to dash toward the house. Carlos grabbed the back of his shirt and plucked him back. He fell to the ground. Carlos kneeled next to him as a bullet hit the truck a few inches from them.
“Shit! That asshole wants to kill us.” Carlos said.
“He must’ve figured out Leo sent us to take him out…”
Badrick grunted as he got up on his heels.
“We must leave.” Carlos tried to get into the truck where Badrick had left his door open, but another shot shattered the passenger side’s window, barely missing him.
He took cover again. Carlos and Badrick both looked around. There were no trees or other cars nearby. The Hilux was their only protection.
Beatrice stared in horror at her laptop monitor. Two bodies were lying in front of her house, and across the street shots were being fired at a Hilux.
“Beatrice, talk to me!”
The sharp pain in Jason’s hand made him feel light in the head. He reached for another towel on the floor next to him, removed the one soaked in blood and wrapped the clean one around his hand.
“They’re dead!”
“What? Who’s dead?”
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“I don’t know! There are two dead guys outside my house…”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Are you calling me a liar?!”
“No! That’s not what I—Urgh!” He threw his gun to the side in frustration. His good hand had been shot, and he couldn’t get a decent grip with all the blood.
“Can you shoot?”
“No, no way!”
Jason sighed. It was no use calling for backup. They’d be dead by the time anyone arrived. They were trapped.
Someone had blocked the only other exit from the outside. The same person who shot his hand, no doubt…
“Shit!”
“Sorry, but I didn’t know that one day I’d be caught in the middle of a crossfire between a cop and men trying to kill him.” She retorted.
“I’m sorry; it’s not your fault. I’m not angry with you…
I’m just frustrated.”
“What are we going to do?” Beatrice pleaded.
“We can’t do anything… Those two dead guys, were they going to enter the house?”
“Yeah, looked like it.”
“At least someone seems to be on our side.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who killed those guys who wanted to come in? It wasn’t me, and it obviously wasn’t you. I don’t hear gunshots, so it’s not a shootout. There must be a sniper who took them out.”
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“Cops?”
“No. No one knows that I came here. Except…” Jason disappeared in thought.
“Except what?”
“Someone was trying to follow my trail earlier. I thought I’d lost him, but…”
Beatrice stared at Jason with fearful eyes. He felt guilty for putting her in a life-threatening situation. “You should leave. Climb out a window if you must. They’re not after you.”
“Um, yes, they are! Did you forget about the recording you heard earlier?”
“Yeah, but they don’t know who you are, Beatrice. Go, get out of here.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Are you kidding me? It wasn’t a request.”
“And you don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m staying.”
“To die? That’s stupid.”
“I’d like to think it’s romantic.”
Romero had put two-and-two together after Leo informed him someone would join him. The man was scared and wanted to get rid of him. And he’d sent the arrogant Mexican below to kill him—big mistake.
He scanned the streets. There were no police vehicles approaching, so the cop probably didn’t call for backup.
He examined the Hilux through his gun scope again.
Carlos and the guy with him were still hiding behind it.
He shot the front and back wheels facing toward him, 164
and another one into the hood. That would keep them there long enough… He packed up his gear.
Jason unwrapped another bloody towel from his hand.
Most of the bleeding had finally stopped. He tried to stretch his hand.
“Ah!” Blood started running again.
He sat back in frustration, eyes closed, not bothered to cover it up again. A floor plank creaked. His eyes shot open to meet a tall figure dressed in black. His face was covered. Instinctively, Jason reached for his holster. He chuckled faintly when he remembered he had thrown his gun to the side earlier. His gaze shifted to it for a moment.
You would never make it. Even if you did, your hand is useless…
“Where’s the girl?” The figure looked around.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jason stared up at him, expressionless.
“There’s no…”
A hollow thud came from the figure’s back. He kept his focus on Jason as Beatrice lifted the bat in her hands for another go. The second hit was a little higher and hit him at the base of his neck. He let out a slight grunt.
He pointed a finger at Jason, “Don’t do anything stupid.”
He turned around and caught the bat as it was about to come down again. Beatrice tried her best to wiggle it loose, but he was too strong for her. He got the bat out of her hand and lowered it. Jason had got to his gun but struggled to get a proper hold of it. The man in black threw the bat to the other side of the room and quickly removed the balaclava from his head.
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“Oooh my goodness!” Beatrice’s exclamation sounded more like excitement than fear.
Jason aimed his gun at the man’s head.
“Wait, Jason! Don’t shoot him!” Beatrice held her arms up defensively. The man turned around to face Jason. He had a deep scar along his left check and dark, deadly eyes.
“Jason! He won’t hurt us…” Beatrice tried again.
Jason didn’t lower the gun, but his gaze shifted to Bea
trice, “You don’t know that…”
“Yes, I do! I saved his life. And I think he’s here to return the favor.”
“What?”
Years ago, Romero had been on a mission to kill one of the Italian mafia lords. There was bad blood between the two mafia families and the richer family wanted the opposition gone. Romero was the right man for the job.
The job was risky, but the reward was too handsome to turn down, so Romero took it.
The Mafia lord had gone down to New York for some business. Killing the Mafia lord was easy; he had snuck in through the big backyard and silently into the house.
He had moved into the family head’s reading room and shot him dead—two shots—one through the chest and one through the head.
Killing the Mafia lord had been easy, but getting away from the house proved difficult. A guard saw him as he entered the house through a window; and before he 166
could hide, the guard opened fire on him. He took a shot in his right leg and another one in his right arm.
He jumped through a window to the outside and hit the ground with a loud thud. The shattered glass had cut deeply into his flesh; a long piece pierced his cheek straight into his mouth. Despite intense pain, he forced himself to his feet and dashed into the bushes behind the backyard; half running, half limping.
The house guards soon lost sight of him, and after two days of searching, they gave up—giving him a chance to escape. He didn’t have it good for those two days. In fact, he barely made it out alive. He stopped his bleeding, but the wounds were infected.
Somehow, he got out of the woods and made it to the main road. As he was on the verge of losing consciousness, he saw a dim headlight. At first, he thought it was a guard on his trail, and he gave up on life.
So, this is how I die?
He smiled as he expected a crushing blow to his head or a stinging pain that would make him black out. But nothing like that happened. Instead, a woman approached. The last thing he heard was, “Hey… Hey…
Are you okay?” before he drifted into a dreamless abyss.
For seven days, he had drifted in and out of sleep; unaware of his surroundings. On the seventh day, he opened his eyes. The sun rays that pierced through the curtains, illuminating the small room, had hurt his eyes.
He squinted; and after a while, his eyes adapted to the light.
He prepared to get out of the little bed he had lain in. A woman entered the room, carrying a tray with a brown jug and two mugs on it. At first sight of her, he instinc-167
tively reached for a weapon from his trousers, but to his surprise, he wasn’t wearing any.
“Who are you?”
She smiled and placed the tray on the worn stool beside his bed, “I am Beatrice, what is your name?”
He ignored her question and went on scanning the little room.
“Are you looking for this?” She brought out his trousers and all the weapons he had hidden in it: short knives and two pistols.
“Sorry, I had to remove your pants to treat your leg wound; I hope you don’t mind.”
He started blankly at her.
“How did I get here?” He asked and struggled out of the bed; but slumped back because of the sizzling pain in his arm and legs.
“You shouldn’t move for a while now.” She said as she helped him climb into the bed again. “I found you lying unconscious on the road with several wounds. I thought you could use some help.”
Her words brought the memories back.
“How long have I been here?”
“Seven days,” she said as she poured something with a light green hue from the jug into one mug.
“A whole week?” He frowned, scratching his chin.
She smiled and held out the mug to him.
“What is this?” He cautiously eyed it.
“It’s an African herbal mixture to help you get better. I couldn’t get any drugs because it seemed some people 168
were looking for you, and I figured they would keep close tabs on the pharmacies.”
She moved away from the bed, brought out a phone and started pressing something.
“What are you doing?”
“If I wanted to sell you out, I would have done it already.” She said with a fixed smile.
He relaxed slightly and sat back, sipping from the mug and starting at her intently. He didn’t know her and he didn’t know why she helped him, but he was grateful.
And if she kept her word about not selling him out, he would pay her back.
He spent several more days in the room where Beatrice had kept him, and when he felt strong enough, he disappeared.
“Jason, lower your gun!”
Jason sighed. He knew if the man had wanted to hurt either of them, he would have done it instead of standing around. He dropped his gun. He and Romero continued eying each other.
“Well, you look better than the last time I saw you.” Beatrice said after an awkward silence.
Romero stared blankly at Beatrice’s radiant face. He approached Jason and pulled him to his feet, “You need to follow me if you want to live.”
Jason wanted to protest. But he knew there were no other options, either. He looked at Beatrice, who gave him an encouraging smile.
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He pushed past the man, “You should really choose your friends better.” He said to Beatrice.
She shrugged her shoulders, “If I hadn’t helped him, he might have killed us…” She whispered.
Jason paused. He turned to the man, “Who are you? And why are you here?”
“Look, man, we can stand here and share introductions, but time’s running out. There are two guys out there on a mission to kill you.” Romero pointed his finger at Jason’s face, “I will leave you here, if you wish.”
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CHAPTER THREE
“Your man double crossed us!” Carlos fumed into the phone. “He knew we were after him. Now he and Detective Williams are gone.”
Leo looked to Tate and his companions; they were in a discussion. He walked to another room, “What do you mean they’re gone?”
“We went there to meet him like you wanted. When two of our guys went over to the house, he shot them. He almost got us, too. Next thing we knew, he was leaving the house with the cop and a girl.”
“How…”
“What’s going on?” Tate’s voice could have pierced Leo’s heart. He composed himself before he turned to face him.
“Nothing, I’m just having a conversation with on of my business partners,” Leo lied. “We’ll continue this later.”
He hung up.
“Can I do something for you, Mister Mike?” Leo challenged when he wouldn’t move.
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Tate eyed him and smiled, “Is everything all right with your business partner? You sounded upset.”
“All good; that’s just the way it goes. I wouldn’t expect a man in your position to understand.” Leo said assertively.
Tate chuckled and returned to his two companions in the foyer. Leo paced up and down, contemplating his next move. He smiled, wanting to burst out in laughter over the irony of his situation. He typed a text message and sent it to Carlos.
I’m in trouble here. Can you come to my house and get me out? I’ll cover the operation.
After a while, his phone gave a brief buzz.
On my way.
Leo walked back to the foyer and sat down opposite Tate, resting his feet on the coffee table. A nervous smile gave him away. Tate shared glances with the two brothers on either side of him and nodded. The three stood up as one man.
“Time to go, Martinez. You’re coming with us.” Tate said.
Leo remained seated—frozen in place. All he could do was stare up at them. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt like it was engulfed with sandpaper.
“W—Where are we going?” Leo asked, fearing that Carlos wouldn’t make it in time.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Carlos put
his phone in his pocket as he entered the study. Bloody towels lay scattered in one corner on the floor. He walked to the table against the rear wall. He 172
could see that the wires were detached in a hurry. He opened the drawers; they were full of junk.
“It’s empty.” Badrick said as he entered.
“Yeah. They’re gone. We should leave before the police show up. Someone would have called them with the shooting earlier.”
“I thought Romero said the cop was wounded. How did they get out?” Badrick asked, pointing at the bloody towels.
“He helped them. It’s the only explanation.” Carlos said.
“I’ll end that asshole twice over! He killed two of my most trusted men.” Badrick hissed.
“Yeah, I want a piece of him, too…” Carlos thought of the disrespectful way Romero had treated him. He would make a glorious example out of him. “Right now though, we need to go. We’re needed elsewhere.”
Badrick sighed. He hadn’t rested since breaking Carlos out of prison. He enjoyed action as much as any thug, but he wanted a break.
“Needed where, mon?”
“We’re going to Leo’s place; he needs help. Powerful people are after him.”
Badrick burst out in laughter, “That’s a good one! Who would want to take on Leo Martinez?” He asked, surprised that someone would dare attack Leo of all people.
“My friend,” Carlos said, patting Badrick on the shoulder. “There are men more powerful and influential than Leo.” He paused, “And they’re after him as we speak. If we don’t act, he’ll die.”
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“Like you care… I saw murder in your eyes when you spoke with him earlier.”
“I care for my empire. It’s not ready to lose Leo, yet.”
“How nice… But I’m not going, mon. If there really are people more powerful than Leo, I’m not messing with them. I take chances, but I’m not stupid.” Badrick said and started walking toward the study’s door.
Carlos clenched his jaw; he could hear his teeth grinding.
In The Line of Fire Boxset 5 Books in 1 (Thriller Stories To Keep You up all Night) Page 12
