“Where’s the money?” the Dragon yelled.
He stood five feet away, wearing a self-satisfied smile, like he’d just drawn an inside straight. I must have been out for only a few moments, long enough for his men to bind my feet and hoist me in the air.
“What’re you after, man?” he asked. “You come here to steal my money?”
“I came here to get Maya.”
He laughed. “She’s just a cunt.”
“Not to me.”
Maya and the other girls stood near the exit, listening.
“Tell him, Mr. Fischer,” Maya shouted. “He’s going to kill you.”
“She’s a smart one.”
I struggled to focus with the blood rushing to my head. “This time it’s over. I found your CD collection in Leo’s safe,” I yelled. “I already turned it over to Detective Ochoa. Your enterprise is about to crash and burn.”
“You’re lying. You wouldn’t call the police. They’re after you. Cops hate a vigilante.”
“Give me Maya, and we’ll cut a deal.”
Distant sirens cut through the silent warehouse. For once I was glad the cavalry was on its way.
“Let me go and cooperate. Maybe you can cut a deal,” I said.
Russell’s jaw tightened. He didn’t panic, but he was weighing his options. Still cool and in control. “Kill him. Blow the place.” He strode to the exit, his square boot heels clicking on the concrete floor, and disappeared with Maya and the other girls.
One of the thugs stepped toward me, smiling. He pointed his pistol at my head.
The sirens got louder.
“The money’s all yours if you let me go,” I said.
The thug lowered his pistol and stepped forward. “Where, asshole?”
“It’s in…” I whispered.
He was curious and greedy. He stepped closer.
I swung my head with everything I had and connected with the bridge of his nose. Blood instantly covered his face and sprayed down his shirt.
He fired his pistol.
The bullet careened off the warehouse floor and hit the metal wall.
An explosion ripped through the building. Part of Russell’s escape plan. The Dragon was destroying the evidence. The room went white, then burst into flame. Pieces of metal roof crashed down around me.
The thug with the broken nose sprinted for the exit.
I swung my torso forward and lifted my bound hands to the edge of the A-frame. The plastic tie caught on a metal spur. I jerked my arms down and freed my hands. I grabbed the top bar and pulled my body up to ease the strain on my legs, then pulled my feet loose and dropped to the floor. Pain shot through my chest and down both arms.
The building erupted in flames. I ran into the parking lot. The Dragon’s Jeep Cherokee was gone.
Emergency lights approached on the horizon along with the surging sirens.
The two gate guards jogged toward me out of breath.
“What happened?” one of them shouted.
I didn’t respond. I stood still watching them approach, holding my hands at my sides. The heat felt good on my naked back. The outside temperature had dropped another five degrees.
The two guards came closer, eyeing me suspiciously. My torso was naked and covered in blood, and my feet were bare. The one on the left raised his pistol.
I grabbed his wrist and hit him in the ear. He went down. I grabbed the weapon and pointed it at his partner.
“Put it down,” I ordered.
He dropped his pistol.
I picked it up and shoved it in my waistband. “Let’s go,” I said, waving the pistol toward the gate.
I followed him inside and made him take off his boots. They were a little too small, but they would work until I found something bigger. I took a black leather jacket from the peg on the wall and put it on over my bloody bandage.
“Where’s your boss?” I asked the guard.
“I don’t know,” he said.
I hit him on the side of the head with the pistol.
“Where’s the Dragon?”
“He’ll kill me if I tell you.” He put his hand to his bloody face.
“What do you think I’m gonna do if you don’t?”
I hit him again. He went to his knees, clutching his bleeding ear.
I shoved the pistol into his forehead. “Talk.”
The sirens were coming fast. I needed to move. I didn’t want to get arrested or have to explain myself to Ochoa until I caught up with Russell and Maya again.
I pressed the barrel harder against the guard’s skin. “Tell me where he went.”
“There’s an airstrip, man, on 1604.”
“Off Weller Road?” I asked. I knew about the private airport.
He nodded, still holding his ear. I jogged out to the Camry. The sirens were less than a mile away, and the emergency lights on the horizon lit up the sky like a weekend carnival.
I jumped into the Camry and fired the engine. The flames from the warehouse leaped fifty feet into the air. I drove past the Mexican bullfrog. Another explosion ripped through the night. I cleared the front of the building and accelerated toward the highway.
Before I reached the road, a dark blue Crown Vic cut me off.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Detective Diana Ochoa calmly got out of her car and walked to my driver’s side window. She wore jeans and tactical boots with a dark blue jacket. Her hair was in a ponytail under an SAPD cap.
“Your twenty-four hours are up, hotshot,” she said. “I hope Russell Stevens is in that warehouse and you’re going to pick up Maya Chavez.”
“He was in that building, now he’s gone. But I know where he went.”
“You’re done, Fischer. You better have some good evidence or I’m placing you under arrest.”
“I’ve got everything you need in this car, but right now Russell is getting away with Maya.”
“How do you know that?”
“One of the guards said he was going to a private airport. He won’t be there long. He blew up his own warehouse. I didn’t have anything to do with it. He heard you coming.”
She eyed me suspiciously.
It was hard to look convincing wearing a borrowed leather jacket soaked in blood. “I have to go, now.”
“No, Fischer. I’m not letting you out of my sight. What evidence have you got?” She wasn’t going to back off or let me leave.
“Two million dollars and a stack of computer disks that show the Dragon’s blackmail victims.”
“And none of that’s admissible because you burned down half the city to get it.” She was pissed. I understood. I hadn’t used the most legal tactics, but Maya’s life was at stake.
“I’ve got an eyewitness. Russell’s accountant, Leonidas.”
“An eyewitness to what?”
“Murder. The Dragon killed his wife ten years ago.”
“That’s a long time to keep quiet.”
“He was scared to talk.”
“You changed his mind?”
“He grew a backbone.”
She studied my face. “You better be on the level.”
“You have to trust me. We need to go now.”
“Take my car. I’ve got a shotgun and an AR in the trunk.” She opened the Camry door. In the dome light she saw the bloody bandage on my chest. “Jesus, Fischer. You’re bleeding.” She helped me out of the car.
“It’s been a long night.”
She opened her trunk and got out a first aid kit. I was still pumped full of adrenaline and wasn’t feeling any pain. I reached for the AR.
“He’s got a ten-minute head start.”
“We do this my way, or I put you in handcuffs,” she said. She stood her ground. I put down the AR and unzipped the jacket.
She peeled off the old bloody bandage. “How are you still up running around?” she asked, wiping my chest with a paper towel. “You should be in the hospital.”
I grabbed her hands. I needed her undivided attention. I knew what was at stake, and I needed her to believe me. “After I find Maya.”
She held my gaze, studying my face. “You never give up, do you?”
I let go of her hands, but she didn’t move away.
“Take off the coat,” she insisted.
She helped me take off the coat, then quickly finished wiping away the blood.
“I didn’t know you had a tattoo,” she said, noticing the small Chinese character inked into my right deltoid.
“A small act of rebellion when I turned eighteen,” I said.
“Why am I not surprised?” She finished taping a large gauze patch over my wound. “What does it stand for?”
“Family.”
She smiled, appreciating the irony. “You’re a piece of work.”
Chapter Fifty
The Crown Vic wasn’t just a big comfortable car, it could get up and move when you hit the accelerator, and Ochoa had her foot on the floor. I checked the AR and loaded a full thirty-round magazine. I also checked her police issue 870 shotgun. Both were ready to go.
“Where’s Kelly?” she asked.
“She went back to Lubbock.”
I felt her staring at my profile. “I thought she was a part of this.”
“She changed her mind.”
Ochoa didn’t comment.
Ten minutes later the lights from the private airport hangar popped up on the horizon. The terrain was flat, and most of the brush had been recently bulldozed. The runway lights were visible from the road and were surrounded by a ten-foot hurricane fence. Ochoa cut the headlights and stopped by the locked access gate five hundred yards from the hangar. She pulled a pair of binoculars from under the seat. There was a plane parked near the fuel pump.
Ochoa studied the aircraft. “It looks like a Beechcraft King Air. Nice.”
“You know planes?”
“I learned to fly in high school. My dad was a pilot. I always thought I would follow in his footsteps.”
“What happened?”
“I found something I liked better.”
“My grandpa liked to fly. I still have his plane. A Cessna 172.”
“I love those. It’s a workhorse.” She was looking through the binoculars. “There’s Russell.”
“Is Maya with him?”
“I can’t see her, but there are three or four females inside the hangar. I count six men besides that. All armed. You were right, Fischer.”
“Did you ever doubt me?”
She rolled her eyes.
“How many passengers will that plane hold?” I asked.
“It’s a beast. It can hold ten people and take off with a full tank of gas and gear. A smuggler’s dream. If he gets off the ground, he’s gone.”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
Ochoa reached for her cell phone. “I’m calling for backup.”
She made the call. San Antonio’s finest were on their way. Ochoa drove with her lights off and parked behind the hangar.
We both got out and walked to the edge of the building on the outside of the fence. The front gate was open, and one thug with an AR-15 stood guard. He was nervously puffing on a cigarette and blowing smoke into the cold night air.
I motioned for Ochoa to follow me, and we jogged to the far end of the building. The Beechcraft engines fired up. Time was running out. It was now or never.
“Over the fence,” I whispered.
“No, wait for backup.”
“You can wait.” I grabbed the fence and hoisted myself up. A sharp pain shot through my arm. Ochoa saw me flinch and the grimace on my face.
“Do you ever follow orders? I thought you were in the military,” she said and grabbed the fence wire below me.
“I was, and no I don’t. That’s why I got out.” I cleared the top strand of barbwire and dropped down on the inside.
Ochoa was hard on my heels. She was quick and agile and moved like a gymnast.
“You’ve done this before,” I said.
“We do go after bad guys occasionally.”
We jogged to the open back door of the hangar. A half dozen small four-seater planes filled the space with room for maybe a dozen more. The Dragon stood in a small waiting area on the opposite end surrounded by four men. Two had AR-15s. The females were seated. I spotted Maya’s gold dress.
I motioned for Ochoa to follow me, ducked back out the door, and jogged in the shadow along the outside of the building. At the front corner, I stopped and crouched down. Ochoa did the same. She had the shotgun ready, and her face was all business. The revving Beechcraft engines told me SAPD wouldn’t get here in time.
I lay on my belly and inched to the edge of the building. The hangar opening was around the corner. The Beechcraft stood thirty yards away with the stairs extended to the tarmac. Fueling was over. They were ready to fly. A man stood on the tarmac shouting to someone inside the plane.
I was close enough to see the faces of the people in the waiting area. Russell wore a bomber jacket, his hair in a ponytail and a smug expression on his face. The other four men were on high alert. The two with rifles watched the airplane, the other two watched the females.
Maya sat with her legs crossed, chewing on her index finger, the gold dress sparkling in the light. Whatever circumstances led to this point didn’t really matter. If I failed, she’d be wearing that gold dress for a long time. I hoped she trusted me. I hoped when the moment came, she’d make the right choice.
“Now would be a good time for your backup to arrive,” I whispered to Ochoa.
She shrugged and inched closer to the edge so she could see the plane and the hangar opening. “What’s your plan?”
“We need to separate the girls from the boys.”
She studied the waiting area and the plane. “I’ve got an idea. Wait here.” She took off running for the back door.
I aimed the AR toward the man near the plane.
Suddenly, the lights in the hangar went out. Ochoa had found the light switch or the electrical line. Dragon pulled a pistol from his bomber jacket. A loud boom echoed through the metal building. Ochoa had fired her shotgun. Lights from the runway cast deep shadows inside the hangar.
The two men with rifles ran through the shadows toward the back door. I hoped Ochoa was ready for them. It was my turn. I put the AR’s open sights on the thug by the Beechcraft and pulled the trigger. He slumped to the tarmac.
Another shotgun blast ripped through the hangar.
The Dragon shouted something into the dark. He motioned in my direction. One of his men took off running. I stood and pressed my back against the building, listening to his footsteps come closer.
When he cleared the edge of the building, I jammed my fist in his throat. The man went down, clutching his windpipe.
The odds were better now. The two men, who disappeared after Ochoa, hadn’t returned. Now it was Russell and one man left.
Suddenly, Maya screamed.
I looked around the corner into the shadows. Russell had her by the neck.
“Is that you, Fischer!” he yelled. He pressed his pistol into Maya’s ear.
There was nothing else to do now but confront him. I leaned the AR against the side of the building, pulled my Springfield, and stepped into the open.
“Let her go, Russell,” I shouted over the engine noise.
He turned toward me, forcing Maya in front of him. The other thug had his pistol out and took several steps to Russell’s right.
I quickly closed the distance between us, stopping ten feet from Maya. “I told you it was over. The police are on their way. Drop the weapon and let her go.”
“Fuck you, Fischer. I’ve got Maya. My plane is fueled and ready. You can’t stop me.” He took a step toward the Beechcraft, keeping Maya between us.
“I brought the money,” I yelled over the engine noise.
He jammed his pistol
harder into the side of her head. A trickle of blood ran down Maya’s cheek. “Liar,” he shouted.
I took a step closer and lowered my pistol. Maya was shaking like a leaf. Her tight gold dress glittered in the runway lights.
“Two million is a lot of money,” I said. The Beechcraft engine roared. “I told you I’d trade it for the girl.”
He was thinking about it. He couldn’t pretend two million dollars didn’t matter. I caught and held Maya’s eyes with my own. We stared at each other. If I could get her to move…
She mouthed, Help me.
It was all I needed from her. I nodded once and mouthed, Drop.
She buckled her knees and dropped like a rock.
My .45 slug caught Russell in the right eye and took the top of his head off.
A shotgun exploded off to my right.
The girls screamed as the other thug’s blood rained down on them.
Ochoa pumped another round in her 870 shotgun, waiting for any more of Russell’s crew, but that was the last of them. Sirens approached from every direction. The cavalry had arrived. Better late than never. Red and blue emergency lights lit up the dark hangar. Tires squealed, voices shouted, and running feet crossed the tarmac.
I laid my pistol on the hangar floor so SAPD wouldn’t shoot me and knelt beside Maya.
“You okay?”
She grabbed my hand as if I were going to run away. The smell of blood from Russell’s head was overwhelming. She gagged and threw up at my feet.
SAPD officers swarmed the hangar.
Detective Ochoa wrapped her SAPD jacket around Maya’s shoulders. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
Maya shook her head and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“You are one lucky girl,” she said.
“I do wanna go back,” Maya finally said. “I was scared to say anything. I’m sorry. He—he threatened…” She couldn’t finish.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry. I’m gonna take you home.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Detective Ochoa drove me back to Fredericksburg the next day in her Crown Vic. Maya was spending a few days in the hospital. After her two-month ordeal with the Dragon, she wasn’t in any shape to be traveling. The doctors said they wouldn’t know if there was any long-term physical damage until she was completely detoxed and rested. I wanted to complete this business before I took any time off, so they gave me a few pints of blood, and by morning I was ready to go. The nurse wrapped my left arm in a sling to keep me from opening the wound in my chest again.
Second Chances Page 24