No Room for Mercy (17 page)

T-top had been having Hayate in her line of fire for the last minute
from the back seat of the Avalanche as he talked on his phone and
moved about on his balcony. Upon Lucky’s order, on bended knee
of the floorboard, T-top squeezed the trigger on her Dragunov and
Hayate’s blood splattered his patio window. He dropped his cell
phone and stepped forward clutching his chest and another low-muzzled
sound was heard by Lucky, who’d witnessed Hayate’s head
split open like a squashed tomato before his body dropped from sight.

T-top pulled her weapon back into the Avalanche as Lucky slowly drove
away. She watched as a woman, Hayate’s wife, ran out onto the
balcony screaming just as she and Lucky cleared their line of sight.
As he drove back to Seattle, Lucky again called Doss to see how he
was making out. “Eh? You twos okay up there? We done down
here.”

Bay heard Lucky’s voice again and now knew for certain that she
had to take the shot. She watched from the ledge as Isao paused
briefly and stared at his cell phone. Bay had the man in her
cross-hairs briefly, but just before she squeezed the trigger, Isao
dropped his phone all of a sudden and began running to his home and
she lost him.

“Fuck!” Bay exclaimed lowly as she moved her rifle to and
fro, trying desperately to find her mark in her scope once more, all
the while hearing the battle her father was engaged in atop the hill.
Unable to find the man with her scope, Bay moved her rifle ahead of
Isao towards the front door in anticipation of his movements. When he
crossed her line of sight in the scope once more, she followed him
patiently. The chauffeur was in and out of Bay’s line of fire,
but for a few brief seconds, just before he entered his home, the
back of Isao’s head came into view and Bay fired one shot. The
7.62 millimeter bullet sliced through the back of her mark’s
skull and exited his face just below his left eye. Isao was dead
before he fell into his threshold.

Bay quickly pulled herself up on to the rain-slickened ledge via the
anchored rope and crawled on the ground under the pelting rain until
she got up and ran over to her father, who was battling the officer
something fierce beside his patrol car. The officer was laying on his
back reaching for his gun repeatedly while yelling aloud for help as
Doss pounded his face. Able to take the blows, the officer stopped
struggling briefly and was able to reach his taser while sustaining
punches and he hit Doss in his side with a power jolt. His limp body
dropped down on top of the officer, who shoved him aside and
scrambled to his knees and reached for his radio. “Dispatch!
Dispatch! We have, we have an officer—”

The officer was silenced by a bullet that ripped off the right side
of his forehead. Bay had run around and aimed her weapon and landed a
fatal shot, looking the officer directly in the eyes before she
killed the man. She then shot out the headlights and flashers on the
patrol car and aided her father to his feet and the pair climbed into
the Suburban with Bay behind the wheel.

Bay was about to pull off until Doss told her about the anchored
rope, his binoculars and the Nextel he’d dropped and for her to
also rip out the video inside the patrol car. While Bay gathered
those items, Doss opened the glove box on the patrol car, popped the
trunk and staggered to the rear of the vehicle and grabbed a two
gallon plastic jug that was filled with gasoline. He and Bay scooped
the officer’s body up and shoved him inside of the patrol car
and doused the vehicle’s interior and the officer’s body
with the gasoline and set both ablaze to remove any remaining
evidence, leaving behind one honest, hard-working dead policeman. The
officer had caught many a teenager smoking and drinking in that
locale and he was only making his rounds. He thought he’d
encompassed the same scenario as he had many times before, only this
time, he’d crossed paths with bona fide killers and it cost him
his life.

Lucky was headed east out of Seattle when Doss called and explained
what happened in coded talk and told him to travel on. The crew would
not meet up again until they returned to Chicago. The job was viewed
as a success; but the crew had unknowingly dodged a bullet. It was
through sheer fate that the hit hadn’t been uncovered, because
unbeknownst to all involved, the Onishi brothers were wanted by
another gang that’d been hot on their tail for some time.

*******

The following morning, the crime scene atop the cliff near Isao’s
home was flooded with at least two dozen officers and crime scene
technicians. The death of the Onishi brothers had sent shockwaves
throughout the law enforcement community, namely the Federal Bureau
of Investigation, who were onto the brothers for distributing heroin
on the east coast.

The burnt out hull of the patrol car containing the officer’s
corpse, which was burned beyond recognition, was covered with a blue
tarp as rainfall pelted the investigating officers’ uniforms.
Amidst the organized chaos, a black Suburban pulled up to the crime
scene and a female federal investigator emerged from the passenger
side. This red-haired forty-four year-old woman had been on the tail
of the Onishi brothers for nearly a year, ever since she’d
busted one of the brothers’ buyers in Philadelphia and had
gotten the dealer to give up his connect for a lesser sentence. When
she’d gotten word Hayate Onishi had been killed on the same
night as his brother, and an officer had been killed in close
proximity to Isao, she knew nothing short of a professional hit had
taken place.

The agent crossed under the yellow tape outlining the crime scene and
walked amongst the officers, trying to decipher what they knew by
asking numerous questions, but none of the investigators were able to
offer much by way of evidence or suspects in the hits because the
rain and fire had washed away all evidence, except for a few spent
shells. After peeking underneath the tarp at the officer’s
charred remains, the woman couldn’t help but to exclaim to her
assistant, “What kind of an animal would do such a thing,
Laddy?”

“One who’s a professional?” Laddy Norcross, a
thirty-two year-old blonde-haired young man of Swedish descent
replied.

“The question was a rhetorical one, Laddy. You have a lot more
to learn about the way I do business, guy, if you ever want to become
my lead detective.”

“I’ve only been under your wing for a few months so I’m
still trying to gauge the process. But I’m most certain I’ll
be learning from the very best before my wings are set free. That was
the right answer, though, don’t you agree? I mean, had it not
been rhetorical.”

“Maybe. Leaning more towards yes.” the woman said as she
walked towards the edge of the slope.

“Thanks. Not bad for a newbie, huh? Hey? Anybody ever tell you
that you look almost exactly like Scully from the X-Files? Only
thinner?”

“Yeah. The guy before you asked me that and I sent his ass back
to Quantico for desk duty. Still think I look that fat bitch from the
X-files?”

“What fat bitch from the X-Files? You are truly unique in
beauty and brains.”

“I like having my ego stroked, amongst other things, but I
don’t like to be patronized,” the woman sighed. “You’re
right, though,” she then said as she stood at the foot of the
ledge, looking down at Isao’s home where more investigators
were milling about. “The shot came from this vantage point is
all these people know, but hell, my Labrador retriever could’ve
figured that one out and she’s blind in one eye. I gotta give
it to whoever did this—it was a helluva shot—one to the
dome—from nearly a mile away. Not many in our field could land
that shot given the angle and weather. Impressive. This was a
professional job, by all accounts. And whoever did this needs to be
removed from society because he or she, or they, are heartless people
without a conscious,” the woman said as she eyed the carnage.

A federal agent assigned to the Seattle office approached the woman
and she extended her hand to the man.“My name is Lisa Vanguard,
federal agent and prosecutor. I want the names of all these guys’
associates. Can we also get the cell phone records that the Onishi—”

“Your job here is done, Misses Vanguard,” the slightly
balding, but physically fit mid-forties Caucasian said in an
aggravated tone.

Lisa eyed her fellow agent with disdain given his tone of voice and
disposition. “It’s Miss Vanguard. And my job is just
beginning, sir. The people I was investigating have been killed and
I’m now obligated to find their murderers in order to move my
case forward.”

“You were only sent here to investigate the Onishi brothers,
who as you already know, are on their way to that metal meat slab
down at the medical examiner’s office.”

“I had a strong case brewing! And I was only weeks away from
indicting those guys until this,” Lisa said as she spread her
hands towards the crime scene off in the distance. “Whoever did
this it is my responsibility to bring them to justice!”

“You were funded monies to investigate the Onishi brothers
only. They’re dead now so the plug has been pulled on your
investigation. I got word this morning from the Justice Department
that you and your staff are on a flight back to D.C. tomorrow. Your
job is done here in the state of Washington. This investigation now
belongs to the Seattle field office.”

Lisa was devastated. At her core she believed had she gotten to the
Onishi brothers she would have been the agent who would have taken
down an entire drug network that was based in the city of Seattle. It
had taken her nearly a year to sniff out the top tier players in her
investigation and now it was being snatched from her hands in one
swift motion. “Fine,” Lisa said as she threw her hands
up. “I know more about this case than all of you guys put
together and I’m the one who’s shut out? You people have
no clue what you’re dealing with. This isn’t your
everyday homicide.”

“We know exactly what we’re dealing with,” the man
said matter-of-factly. “We’re dealing with the death of a
well-respected rookie patrolman by the name of Rodney Simmons who was
killed in cold blood and two drug dealers who got what was coming to
them because of the business they were involved in by all accounts.”

“Their profession doesn’t make their deaths any less
important. If you knew the game, you’d see clearly that the
Onishi brothers were terminated on purpose. Maybe by a rival gang
here that’s trying to take over their heroin operation. Have
you any references to other criminal gangs here?”

“There’re several Asian gangs we’re looking at, but
no one’s talking, of course.”

“Really? What are the Asians going to say if you ask them about
these homicides? ‘Oh yeah, that Onishi hit? That was on us and
we’re all now ready for a life sentence’?” Lisa
said sarcastically.

“Your attitude is the very reason I’m glad you’re
leaving my state and this here time zone.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “What’s your name?” she
asked.

“I’m agent Daniel Jarkowski,”

“Okay, agent, jerkoffski. Do you have—”

“That’s Jarkowski.”

“Jerkoffski, Jarkowski, same difference. Do you have a
suspect?”

“No one as of yet.” Jarkowski replied as he shook his
head while looking down at Lisa.

“Why you looking at me like that?” Lisa questioned. “You
still pissed about me mispronouncing your name? Come on, we bigger
than that aren’t we, guy?”

“You come here and try and uproot the Asian community by
insinuating that there is an organization here that is involved in
crime and I don’t like it.”

“I’m not implying anything. I am
convinced
that
there is an Asian gang established here opposite the Onishi brothers
who can kill people via the long shot. That thought ever crossed your
mind? Or you can’t think that far out of the box?”

Jarkowski smirked at Lisa and cleared his throat. “When we find
that officer’s murderer we will find the Onishi brothers’
murderers and kill two birds with one stone. And this hit could’ve
been orchestrated by the Yakuza just so you know.”

“If only the Japanese Mafia did hits abroad. Sir, and no
disrespect, but nobody this far up in the business walks around
wearing an ‘I’m a Killer’ sign. And looks don’t
mean a damn thing to me when it comes to homicide. From infant to
elderly, everybody’s a suspect in my eyes.”

“Is she always this difficult?” Jarkowski asked Laddy.

“I just met her a few weeks back.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“He likes his job. So therefore he will not answer that
question,” Lisa remarked with a smile.

“We’re done here,” Jarkowski said in frustration.
“Be sure to catch your flight in the morning—and don’t
go snooping around the time you have left here. The Seattle office
will take over this, this unfortunate tragedy and do what needs to be
done. You’ll need to leave all your files at the Seattle office
and make sure you’re debriefed before day’s end,”
he ended before he walked away, leaving Lisa and Laddy standing in
the light drizzle.

Lisa knew what was on the line, but she would have to follow
protocol. The people in charge back in D.C. were pulling her off the
case despite the fact that was she was right on the heels of the
Onishi brothers. She understood the fact that because her targets had
been removed from the investigation via death, her job had become
obsolete.

It was a crappy deal, but Lisa knew she’d lost all authority
over her investigation. She would leave Seattle the following day
after following protocol, but she was determined to return to the
west coast to finish what she’d started as she just knew there
was much more to the story involving the deaths of the Onishi
brothers.

For now however, Lisa knew that whoever the killers were, they would
remain free because the Seattle office in her assessment, were an
inept bunch of witless agents who could care less about upholding the
law and closing out the big investigations.