Dead Six

Chapter 28:

The Calm

VALENTINE

Lorenzo’s little buddy tagged along as Hawk and I made our way down the ravine, practically crawling along as we went. There were several cars parked outside of the building that Jill was being held in, and there were armed men standing watch outside. They didn’t seem particularly alert, but it wasn’t quite dark yet and I didn’t want to blow our cover.

I was most worried about them spotting Reaper. Where Hawk and I were dressed in earth tones and flat colors, Reaper was dressed entirely in black. Black sticks out pretty clearly against a dusty brown hillside in the Nevada desert. Worse, the kid just didn’t know how to move. We had to crawl along more slowly than we would have otherwise, making sure Reaper utilized available cover and concealment.

Lorenzo, on the other hand, moved like a ghost. I tried to track him as he crept down the hill parallel to us, but quickly lost sight of him in the sage. Grudgingly impressed, I had little doubt Lorenzo would make it all the way down without being spotted.

LORENZO

There was probably only a few minutes of weak daylight left coming over the hills by the time I crept up on the cinder-block wall. My load-bearing equipment was coated in dirt, twigs, and dead sage. I hadn’t been seen.

“Looking good,” Bob’s voice said in my ear. “Guards are leaning on the cars out front. I don’t see any movement in the back room. There are a few men inside the next room.”

Crouching below the window, I cradled my nose-heavy AR in my strong hand and reached up and tested the window. It was the multi-paned, hinged type. It moved slightly. It was unlocked. Just then my phone began to vibrate. I pulled it out of my pocket, glanced both ways, still clear, and flipped it open. “Hello?” I whispered.

“Mr. Lorenzo.” It was the digitally altered voice. I could hear the real voice through another broken window fifteen feet away. “Where are you?”

“I’m going through Las Vegas now,” I whispered. “Bad reception here.”

“You will proceed to Quagmire, Nevada, and wait for further instructions.” The normal human voice came through the window a split second before the distorted voice.

“Sorry, you’re breaking up.” I closed the phone and put it back in my pocket.

“Lost him. He says he’s in Vegas,” the voice said. “Send the strike team to Quagmire.”

“Should we take the girl, sir? He said he wanted to see her alive.”

“They all say that. Keep her alive long enough to talk on the phone if we need her. Then put a bullet in her. Remember, we want this Lorenzo alive. Eddie won’t give us anything for him dead.”

Eddie? How could Gordon the government guy be involved with Big Eddie? This didn’t make any sense. Valentine must have picked that up from my microphone. “I recognize that voice. Gordon’s here. You don’t touch him. He’s mine.”

“Let me get Jill first. Then you can go on a killing spree,” I whispered.

“A bunch of men in SWAT gear are loading into the passenger van,” Bob noted calmly. There was the sound of a door sliding shut, and then a large engine revving. They were going to set up an ambush for nobody. I crouched lower as the headlights briefly swung past the cinder-block wall.

This was as good as it was going to get. “I’m going in.” I sprung up and took a quick look through the dirty window. Jill was still slumped in a chair. There was nobody else in the room. The room was filled with old trash, rusted metal, and broken bits of wood. Thick spiderwebs clouded the corners. I pushed the heavy panes open slowly, rust binding in the hinge, begging to let out a screech. I gritted my teeth, pushing, praying for silence. Finally it was open wide enough to scramble through.

The door to the back room opened. I slid back down the outside wall. A man was coming into the room. He was wearing a suit, and a cigarette dangled from his lips. He was small, weasel-like, and had an MP5 slung over one shoulder. “Hey, baby. The boss man says we don’t need you much longer.”

Jill raised her head for the first time. There was duct-tape over her mouth. Having held her against her will once myself, I could understand the need for the tape. She struggled against the chair. The fierce anger in her eyes was very familiar. The man closed the door behind him. “See, the way I figure it, I’m your only hope right now. You do me a little favor, and maybe I do you a little favor, know what I mean?” If he was any more of a slimeball he’d be leaving a trail.

The man leaned the MP5 against the wall. He took his suit coat off, threw it on top of the gun, and began to loosen his tie. “You know you want it anyway, baby. Make this good for me, and I can talk the boss into letting you go.” Jill just glared at him.

I found the small dowels in my pocket, palmed them in one hand, then slowly put my hands on the windowsill and began to lever myself through as silently as possible. If I could take this guy out quietly, we still had a chance.

The man had his back to me, distracted as he ran one hand through Jill’s hair. She jerked her head away. “Fine, you wanna be a bitch, whatever. I like it when they fight.” He laughed.

What happened next was a surprise. Jill’s hands came around in a blur, bloody tape still tied around her wrists. She must have been working those against the back of the chair for hours. She slugged him right in the throat. He made a terrible gahhwk noise and stumbled. Then Jill stuck one thumb into his eye and locked the other hand around his larynx. The man started to scream, but she cranked down on his throat and choked it off. Her knee found his crotch, so violently hard that I cringed.

He punched her in the side, she cranked down harder, crushing his windpipe, forcing him to his knees. I pushed myself through the window, landing on my hands and rolling. The would-be rapist was on his back now, with Jill bearing down on his throat with both hands. He grabbed her by her hair and jerked her down, but she kept cranking on his neck.

The door opened. I stepped behind it without thinking, a dowel in each hand. “Davis, what the hell are you doing in here?” the second man asked. He stepped into the dark, his imagination filling in the blanks about the struggle before him, drawing all the wrong conclusions. “Can’t you just keep it in your—” I kicked the door closed after he stepped through, the length of piano wire stretched between the two dowels coming down over his head. I crossed my arms and tugged with all of my strength.

He never knew what hit him. The second man struggled, leaning forward I followed, all my weight dragging the wire inexorably through his flesh. The wire grated against vertebra in a matter of seconds, and we both fell to the ground in a spreading puddle of red. His head was barely attached.

I rolled off the twitching body and moved to assist Jill, but she didn’t need any help. She leaned back, shaking. The man’s eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, his tongue almost bit off between his teeth. Jill stood, angrily ripped the tape from her face, and kicked the body once.

“Jill? Are you okay?” I whispered, the sound of conversation barely audible on the other side of the door. The rest of Gordon’s men hadn’t heard. She fell into my arms and sobbed. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“You came for me.” She was trembling. “I thought I was dead. . . . I’ve never killed anyone before.”