Authors: Victor Methos
“Well, if you’re interested, there’s this gal at my work. Cute as a bug. She’s newly single.”
“Uh huh,” Jack said, not taking his eyes off the two men.
They were approaching quickly. One of them looked directly at him and then they turned away and into one of the souvenir shops. Jack’s gaze finally broke free and he realized that Hank had been speaking the entire time.
“And so her husband just left, just like that. You believe that?”
“No, that’s amazing.”
“Yeah,” Hank said, staring off at some kids that were running around.
Movement caught Jack’s eye. The two men had gone through the back door of the souvenir shop and were looping around toward him. Jack looked over and the men broke into a run.
Jack shoved Hank to the ground as the men pulled out handguns from their pants and opened fire. Jack jumped behind a nearby statue as the park filled with screams and people began to run.
He sprinted out from cover as he saw that the men circled around from opposite directions. He kept his head low as he jumped over the railing to a children’s ride and sprinted through to the other side. A
Star Wars
ride was inside a building and he ran for it as shots echoed behind him.
A hallway and then a ramp as he sprinted down and turned into a small room, flipping the lights off. The people in here hadn’t heard the gunshots and they were still walking around talking and laughing. He slid down the wall close to the floor, and waited.
After a few seconds, he heard someone yell, “Holy shit they’ve got guns!”
People panicked and ran for the exits. Jack kept his eyes on the floor. The clatter of running and screaming filled the building but it soon emptied until just the sounds of R2-D2 and a short film playing somewhere remained. He could see a shadow cast on the floor and then the shadow began to fade. He held his breath.
The shoe came first. It casually stepped in front of him and as it did Jack jumped to his feet and glanced out. The man wasn’t more than a foot away from him, his hood off and his dreadlocks hanging down around his shoulders. He looked surprised and Jack moved. He grabbed the weapon and twisted it up, enough so that the man clutched it with both hands and raised his arms to try to keep hold of it. Jack slammed his elbow into the man’s windpipe, causing it to collapse.
Choking, the man let go of the weapon. Jack could see the second man outside. He stood guard, making sure no one would get in. He saw what was happening and opened fire.
Jack twisted the man in front of him so that he spun like a top, bits of bloody flesh flying away from him in chunks as his companion’s rounds tore into his body. Jack pushed the man, keeping his head low behind him, and ran at the one firing. A round grazed his shoulder and his thigh but didn’t penetrate.
When Jack was close enough, he threw the first one into the second and jumped on him. The man swung with his gun, using it as a hammer. Jack leaned back far enough that the blow missed him and came up with his foot, smashing it into the man’s groin. The man didn’t even flinch.
He swung again and Jack palmed him in the nose before completing the strike, knocking the man off balance. But the man didn’t feel, or didn’t recognize, the pain.
He kept coming at Jack. Swinging wildly or kicking, grunting like an animal as he did. Jack ducked and parried and spun, waiting for the moment when his attacker opened himself up.
The dreadlocked man finally grabbed for Jack’s throat with both hands. Jack came up with his hands together as if in prayer and then spread them out, knocking the other man’s hands down. He grabbed the man’s face with his palms and stuck his thumbs into his eyes, sweeping out his legs from under him. As the man fell, Jack flew on top of him, the weight from his body causing the thumbs to bury deep into his eyes, popping them out of the sockets.
The man howled in pain and thrashed wildly as Jack stood and picked the weapon up from the ground. He held it as he came out into the sunlight, his eyes sweeping the crowd for any more men with dreadlocks. And then he saw something that made his blood cold.
Nicole and Hank, covered in blood, hunched over Autumn. The young girl had a large wound in her chest and the blood was quickly flowing out of her. Jack dropped the weapon and sprinted toward her. He placed his hands over the wound and pressed as hard as he could. He shouted for an ambulance but there was hardly anyone around to get help.
“Damn you!” Nicole was shouting as she hit him in the face. “Damn you!”
CHAPTER 10
The hospital was filled with nurses running around catering to patients, beeping machines, and squeaking gurneys. Moments of quiet would interlace with the chaos and it was the quiet that was most disturbing to Jack. It forced him to be in his own head and the only thing running through it was the broken and bleeding body of a little girl that had trusted him.
Jack saw his sister and Hank step out of a room with a doctor. The doctor was explaining cerebral edema to them. He wasn’t smiling and had a grave look on his face as Hank asked him, “What are the chances?”
“Touch and go right now,” he said. “But she’s strong. She’s fighting really hard.”
Hank thanked the doctor as he embraced his wife. Nicole was weeping, repeating, “My baby. My baby.”
Jack’s heart felt like it had torn in half. He stared at the floor, unable to look them in the eyes. He heard their footsteps nearing. He glanced up at his sister and the rage and hatred in her eyes. She lunged at him and he got to his knees and lowered his head, submitting to whatever it was she wanted to do to him. Hoping that it was something. He felt so dead inside; maybe pain could make him feel something.
His sister never did anything but stare. Hank pulled her away and they went to the waiting room across the hall. Jack got to his feet, watching them as they sat down and gazed blankly at a television up on the wall. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see William walking up, his badge gleaming brightly from a clip on his belt.
“How you holdin’ up?”
Jack shook his head but didn’t respond.
“We ID’d the body in the morgue. Definitely Myrs. His name was Mark DeMaria, if you’re interested. The eyeless wonder is Michael Brant. One of the park’s cameras caught a third Myr. Reese Stillman. He took off. We got a BOLO call out for him right now.”
“Why would they do this?”
“The bar, Jack. This is how they operate. You took out two of their men and got ‘em arrested. Murder’s the only retaliation they know.”
“I want to find them, William. I want you to take me to them.”
“And then what? Jack, this isn’t some street gang of thirteen-year-olds. These guys are well funded, well trained, and there’s a lot of ‘em. Not as many as the bloods or Crips or Tres Locos but they’re increasing their numbers every day. The FBI wants in on this. Let them handle it.”
Jack stepped close to him, looking him in the eyes. “That little girl might die because of me. Because I chose to come back here.”
“Bullshit. That little girl might die because there’s a war going on in this city between people who don’t care who they hurt or kill. It has nothing to do with you, Jack.”
“If you won’t help me, I’ll find them alone.”
William shook his head. “You’re not law enforcement anymore. I can’t do that.”
“Then make me law enforcement.”
“You serious?”
“Yes. On one condition: I’m assigned to Robbery-Homicide on this case.”
“There’s no way I can promise that.”
“Robbery-Homicide, this case. That’s the only way, William. I know you got the juice to do it. I know you’re up for captain when Franks retires. Just do it.”
William exhaled, watching the man’s face. “Okay. Robbery-Homicide, this case. But if you get emotional and let your judgment get clouded, I gotta take you off.”
The paperwork was amazingly quick. Jack did have to take a blood test and polygraph, but he got his shield within two days and was issued his weapon. He turned it down and ordered one of his own. A custom-made Desert Eagle .45 caliber with expanded clip.
Whenever he got through for the day, he went to the hospital and sat in the waiting room. Nicole still wasn’t speaking to him but one day she came over and sat next to him for a few hours, neither of them saying anything.
Autumn was stable but the swelling in her brain had her in a coma. Her heart hadn’t been punctured but the tip of her lung had and she had gone into surgery the moment she got here. Recovery, they said, was a long way away.
Jack bought an iPad and at night would read everything he could about the Myrs. They had come out of nowhere to become one of Los Angeles’ most dangerous and influential gangs. They supplied their operation with drug money but had recently gotten into bank robberies as well. It was odd, because the drug trade was so lucrative. Jack wondered what it was they needed all that money for.
Their main recruitment tool was the promise of money. Everyone in the organization was paid, an anonymous source had told the
LA Times
. And paid well. But there seemed to be more than that. People died willingly for this gang. Money couldn’t motivate men like that. It was one of the reasons Machiavelli had recommended never to use mercenaries; their loyalties were easily changed.
Jack tried to find as much information as he could about their leader, Agamemnon, but there was nothing on him other than a few black and white photos from the bank robbery. There was no way, Jack knew, that a human being could grow so large. He guessed Agamemnon was probably near eight feet tall and somewhere around seven or eight hundred pounds, if that mass was all him. Jack guessed there was a regular man under that suit, disguising his body shape and type from the cameras.
Technically, a new detective had months of training with superior officers, assisting on routine calls. Jack was spared that little speed bump and, when he appeared at the precinct one day, had every file on the Myrs emailed to him. He began reading at seven in the morning and didn’t stop until three in the morning the next day. He would run down to the grocery store around the corner and buy fruit and cheese and he’d sleep a few hours on the bed in the breakroom. Other than that, his eyes were glued to his screen.
The bank robbery last week wasn’t the first by the Myrs, but it was the most brazen. There had been three other robberies. Jack made notes regarding their locations and the amounts taken. Two of the banks had video.
One video showed a bank teller out of a First Mutual in downtown Burbank, who saw the Myrs coming and locked the doors. Agamemnon casually ripped the doors off the frames.
Jack played the scene over and over.
What the hell are you?
CHAPTER 11
The next day, Jack’s first stop was the hospital. No one was there this early in the morning and he got to sit next to Autumn’s bed. He held her hand a long time and spoke gently to her of some of the things he’d seen and places he’d been the last few years. After an hour, he rose and headed to the precinct, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
The first duty of the day was roll call. The detectives would sit in a small classroom while the lieutenant or captain gave a briefing of the previous day’s goings-on and took questions about any open cases.
“All right,” the captain said, “anything else? Detective Yates, what’s goin’ on with the Myrs?”
“Detective Kane has that one.”
“Detective Kane, what’dya got for me?”
Jack said, “They’re going to hit American Security.”
Everyone in the room stared at him. The Myrs case was considered one of the toughest cases in the open-unsolved category and no one had made any progress in the year and a half it had been ongoing.
“How do you know that?”
“They’ve tried to make their heists seem random. The first was in Burbank, then Santa Barbara, then Bel Air, and now Santa Monica. I looked for the commonality between them. They’re the four largest banks, in terms of volume of cash that goes through them every day. The fifth largest is American Security in Anaheim.”
The captain glanced at William who grinned at him.
“All right, you and William follow up on American Security. Keep me posted. Anything else from anyone…no? All right, get out there and kick some ass.”
The room began to empty and William came over to Jack and sat in the desk in front of him. “The captain wasn’t that crazy about bringing a federal agent into his squad.”
“I can’t imagine anyone would be.”
“That’s good work, Jack. It’s a guess, but it’s a good guess.”
“We need a surveillance detail on the bank.”
William shook his head. “Sorry, compadre. Maybe on a big federal tab you can do that, but out here we’re working on nickels and dimes. You want surveillance, it’s gotta be us.”
“Well, what’re we waiting for?”
They chose to drive William’s old Buick rather than either of their Vipers, as they would draw too much attention. American Security was near the beach and they could smell the salty air and faintly hear the roar of the surf. They parked at a meter far enough away that no one going into the bank should notice them.
“I’m sorry about Autumn. I don’t think I told you that yet.”
“It’s my fault, William. Not yours. You got nothing to be sorry about.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s stable. But still in a coma.”
“I want you to know that if—”
“Who’s that?”
A man was walking around the entrance of the bank. It was easily over ninety degrees but he wore jeans and a jacket. He strolled past the entrance and then around to the back of the bank before going to the entrance again. Then he walked away.
“What the hell was that about?” William asked.
“Looked like he was casing the place.”
They sat for another three hours but didn’t see the man return. Over time they had stripped down as much as possible without being indecent and William had even taken off his shoes and socks. They would turn on the air conditioner for a long time but the air was warm unless they drove around.