Escape, the Complete Trilogy

by David Antocci

  “When I heard that he died, instead of feeling like I was finally safe, I got a feeling that I could finally go back. It’s hard to explain, but it was like I knew Ava was out there, like she was calling to me. When Bryce faked his death, he did it to draw me out. I knew his deepest secret, one that would ruin him, and he had to make sure I would never talk. It worked, as you know. I figured I’d finally be safe with him thinking he had killed me, but obviously he didn’t buy it, and well... here I am.”

  “So what’s the plan? You and Ava ride off into the sunset?”

  “Something like that. But I’ve got to end this first, that’s for sure. No more games; no more playing dead; no more looking over my shoulder.”

  “I believe you. I’m just a little worried about your state of mind. Killing your husband, the father of your child... do you wonder what that will do to you?”

  Abby laughed. “It can’t be any worse than what him being alive does to me. No fucking way. I’m the judge and jury on this one. I’ve got no moral issue with that. Either Bryce or I will be dead before sunrise tomorrow. God willing, it’s him, and Ava and I will disappear for good this time.”

  Donny shook his head, “I believe you, Abby, I really do.”

  17

  EDDIE VINES FOUND himself walking down a darkened alleyway between two old brick buildings in what Rosso’s men would have lovingly referred to as the old neighborhood. Both trash and homeless people littered the corners of the alley. Despite being a sunny afternoon, the alley remained cool and dark, given that the sun’s rays only penetrated it for an hour or so a day when it was directly overhead.

  As he strode toward a black door at the end of the shaft, he thought about his predicament. He needed information. He needed to find Bryce. Unfortunately, Randy knew nothing more. He was forced to go after some even lower-level guys in hopes of getting some usable information. He didn’t expect anyone outside Rosso’s inner circle to know where Bryce was, but he had to start somewhere.

  Vines turned the knob and gave the door a push, but it stuck about six inches in. He pushed a little more and finally moved it enough to let him enter the dark hallway. When he got to the other side, he saw a woman lying down, or more likely passed out, behind the door.

  For a moment, he thought about checking for a pulse, then decided he was just plain tired and didn’t give a shit, so he made his way up the creaky stairs. There was a bit more light when he reached the hallway, as the sun shone in as best it could through the dirt and grime caked on the window at the far end. Several other bodies, either passed out or sleeping, littered the passage as he made his way down to door 26.

  He tested the knob. Finding it locked, he pounded on the door with his closed fist.

  Nothing.

  He pounded again. “Lucky, I know you’re in there. Come out.”

  A skittish voice came from behind the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Vines. Now open the fuckin’ door before I break it down.”

  Silence.

  “Lucky?”

  “What do you want?” the voice came again.

  Vines raised his voice. “I want you to open the door, or so help me I’ll break it down, and then you’re next.”

  He smiled as he heard the deadbolt latch click and the door cracked open to reveal the gaunt face of the most nervous little man Vines had ever met.

  “Can I come in? I just wanna talk.”

  Lucky tried to look up and down the hall through the crack in the door. “You alone?”

  “I’m alone.”

  “OK, come on in.” He closed the door, and Vines heard him slide the chain from its lock, then reopen it. “Just for a minute, OK?”

  As Vines walked in, he took in the unmistakable smell of crack cocaine. It was a delightful bouquet that he would describe as the perfect blend of rancid cat pee, burnt plastic, and spicy Indian food. It wasn’t fresh, so he figured Lucky probably hadn’t hit it since that morning, but the smell lingered.

  Lucky watched, nervously chewing on the ends of his fingers, as Vines strode around the apartment. Trash filled the corners of the sparse room. A dilapidated coffee table and an old, ripped couch that doubled as Lucky’s bed filled the space in the middle. Ashtrays were strewn about, each overflowing with cigarette butts.

  “Nice place you’ve got here,” Vines said with a smile.

  Lucky wasn’t “in” the family, but he knew people. He was a dealer, or rather a distributor that other dealers reported to. He reported to Monte’s crew and was compensated well enough, or would have been if he hadn’t been so into his own product. He smoked almost every dollar he made for the family, and often wound up owing Monte money at the end for extra product. But he was a connection to a certain class of people that Monte was selling to, so the relationship worked.

  Fortunately for Vines, Lucky had no other way to make extra bank when he needed to, so in stepped the Bureau, and he was kept as an informant. Since then, Vines had kept him clean enough to be useful, but not so much as to arouse suspicion.

  “I need to find someone Lucky.”

  “Who’s that?” His eyes fluttered nervously around the room, unable to focus on Vines or any one thing really.

  “A guy you probably haven’t seen in a while. You used to work with him. His name is Bryce. He was Monte’s boss awhile back.”

  “Bryce, Bryce, Bryce...” Lucky looked around the room as if checking to see if Bryce was there with them. “Nope, nope, no Bryce.”

  “Think hard,” Vines said, stepping closer. “Tall guy, blue eyes, blond hair... real mean sonofabitch.”

  Lucky silently mouthed “Bryce” a few more times before his eyes finally focused on Vines. “Yeah, yeah, I remember him. Robbed a bank. The feds shot his ass, don’t you know that? He’s dead. That’s how Monte got his spot.”

  “That’s the story anyway,” Vines said, looking around. He walked over to a pile of unopened mail and flipped through it while Lucky watched, eyes darting around the room again. “You hear about what went down last night?”

  Lucky’s eyes stopped, and he stared straight at Vines. “So you did?”

  “That’s some messed up shit, Vines,” Lucky said, shaking his head.

  “Who pulled the hit? You know? You hear?”

  Lucky shook his head. “No, I ain’t heard nothing.”

  Vines studied his informant thoughtfully as he slowly walked up to him. “I believe you. You wouldn’t know. That’s OK, though. I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Well, I got some good information, and I’m putting the pieces together. There’s one piece that I really need, though, and you’re going to help me get it.” As Vines stared down Lucky from just a foot away, he watched his informant uncomfortably glance around the room.

  “I ain’t heard nothin’, Vines. I told you.”

  “Sure, not about last night, but I’m thinking about your old boss, Bryce.”

  “I told you he’s dead. Feds got him.”

  Vines advanced on Lucky as the snitch backed away. “I’m going to level with you, Lucky. I’m going to tell you something that not many people know because I need your help and dammit, you’re going to help me.”

  Lucky backed himself to a wall. He had no choice but to stand there as Vines continued.

  “I’ve got a guy inside Rosso’s compound...”

  “Then ask him. He’d know more than me.”

  “Shut your mouth and listen up. I did ask him, and he says he knows who pulled the hit. The problem is, if I’m going to get my hands on this person, I need to find Bryce. Does that make sense to you?”

  Lucky shook his head. “No, it don’t make no sense. Bryce is dead, man. A couple years now at least.”

  Vines punched the wall just to the side of Lucky’s head, “He’s not! He’s not dead! I was at the bank myself, and he was not there, so stop telling me he’s dead.”

  “OK, OK, he ain’t dead, but I don’t know where to find him, man, I swear it.”

 
“I wouldn’t think that you would know. Not some low-level, drug-dealing prick like you. But he was tight with Monte, and you’re in with his crew.”

  Vines violently shoved his hand into Lucky’s pocket and came out with a beat-up cell phone, “Make some calls and get me a meeting.”

  Lucky stared at the phone. “I can’t, man, I can’t.”

  “Oh, you can and you will, you piece of shit.” Vines slapped him hard across the face.

  Lucky withdrew like a scared dog. “I’m serious, man, I can’t. My guy, my contact, some fat prick named Billy, got it last night, too. He’s messed up real bad. In the hospital and everything. I got nothing else, man.”

  Vines was incensed, his blood boiling. He had to find Bryce in order to find Abby, and Lucky’s stubbornness was standing in his way. “Now you’re feeding me bullshit, and you know how much I hate bullshit.”

  “Come on, man,” Lucky begged, but to no avail.

  Vines grabbed him by the shirt and slammed his back into the wall. “Stop lying to me! There were eight guys taken in last night, five more dead, and not one of them was a fat prick named Billy. Now make the call and set up a meeting.”

  “I can’t, I swear...”

  Vines backhanded the snitch. “Stop saying that and set it up!”

  “I swear, man, he wasn’t at the house. They found him in the back seat of a car down by the landfill. Car was wrecked. Him and another guy were totally messed up. I swear, man. Call the cops—they’ll tell you!”

  Vines stared hard into Lucky’s eyes.

  Shit... he’s telling the truth.

  He cocked his fist, ready to deck the skinny bastard. He just felt like he needed to hit something. Lucky flinched and turned his head, opening one eye when the impact never came.

  “Who else do you know? Bryce is out there, and I’ve got to find him.”

  “I really don’t know, man. I swear I don’t. I thought he was dead. You say he’s still alive, and I believe you, but I ain’t never heard that before.”

  Vines let go and threw up his hands, cursing under his breath. He needed to get into the family, and Lucky was the best shot he had. He paced the room, willing himself to think of alternatives as Lucky nervously watched.

  Suddenly, Vines spun around to face him. “The money. Who do you make your drops to?”

  “They always went to Billy, man. He handled everything. I didn’t know anyone else.”

  Dammit... Vines continued pacing, his mind racing to make a connection. Money, money, money... There was something he was forgetting.

  “Did you ever interact with anyone else besides Billy?”

  “Never, man. He always did the delivery Monday afternoon, then picked up the cash Sunday night. He’d get pissed if I didn’t have the cash for him Sundays. Said they were running a business and he had to deposit shit on time, something like that.”

  That’s when it hit Vines. The money! The money would lead him to Bryce.

  Vines mumbled a “Thanks” to Lucky and flew out the door.

  If Bryce is alive, he’s still paying into the family. Follow the money, and I’ll find Bryce at the end of the rainbow.

  * * *

  “Where would you go?” Donny asked, thankful the long car ride allowed him to get reacquainted with Abby.

  She looked at him for a long time, an internal debate raging about whether to tell him the truth. Can I trust him? Should I trust him? He had willingly jumped to her aid back at Rosso’s and hadn’t left her side since. She would be dead without him today. Those two thugs on the side of the road would have killed her.

  Of course, I can trust him.

  But is it good for him if I trust him? He was a wildcard she hadn’t planned on, and he could be taken out just for helping her. Her conflicted feelings led to a long silence that made Donny uncomfortable.

  “Abby?”

  Coming out of her trance she looked at him. “Yeah?”

  He laughed. “Did you hear me? I asked where would you go?”

  She sighed. “Someplace far, far away from here. Someplace quiet and simple. Someplace where no one knows who I am. Someplace so far away no one would come looking for me.”

  “Rosso’s dead, Abby. The whole organization is falling apart after the damage you did last night. Once Bryce is out of the picture, who do you have to hide from?”

  “If only it were that simple. I’m one of the most recognizable people in the Northern Hemisphere, but I want nothing to do with it. I want a quiet life. I think about growing up in my parent’s quiet neighborhood in their little house, and that’s all I want for Ava. You asked earlier what I was trying to get back to. I guess that’s it. That’s my normal. That’s what I want. To live a quiet and peaceful life with my little girl. I know a place where I can do that, and I intend to get back there.”

  Donny smiled. “That sounds great. It sounds like what everyone wants. You know, after all of this,” he waved around with a free hand, “I’m going to be in the market for a new place to call home myself. I can’t go back to my life, not now, not after what I’ve done. I’m not saying ‘Take me with you’, or anything, but someday, maybe you’ll have room for an old friend.”

  “Maybe, Donny. Maybe.” Abby continued staring out the front window, her mind trying to push all of these complicated thoughts to the side so that she could concentrate on the only thing that mattered: finding Bryce and ending him.

  * * *

  After fruitlessly pounding on the front door for a good ten minutes, Vines broke into the rear door of Venzo’s Accounting Firm, CPA, only to find the office completely abandoned. The smell of burnt coffee lingered in the air, but the accountant was nowhere to be found.

  Vines called the Bureau to find out that Venzo had contacted his handlers a few hours ago and was at home waiting for further instructions. Vines quickly routed himself to the Venzo household and found himself talking to Mrs. Venzo through a closed front door.

  “How do I know you are who you say you are?” she asked.

  “If you’ll open the door, you can see my badge, ma’am. I assure you, I’m a federal agent, and I urgently need to speak with your husband.”

  “I’m not opening the door. I’m calling the police.”

  Vines didn’t care about the authorities, but getting the local cops involved was going to delay things, and he was in no mood for delays.

  “No need to do that, ma’am. I’m going to slide my badge and ID through the mail slot, OK?”

  Absent a response, Vines did just that. A tug from the other side confirmed that she had grabbed his identification and was looking it over, probably with Venzo standing right next to her.

  That was confirmed a moment later when a man’s voice spoke up from the other side of the door. “What’s this about? You’re not the agent who’s supposed to debrief me.”

  “No, I am not. John, I’m here about what happened last night. I’m trying to put together the pieces. Time is crucial, and if you’ll let me in we can discuss it further. Call your handler if you want to. They’ll confirm why I’m here.”

  After ten minutes of sitting on a rocking chair on the front porch waiting for Venzo to do just that, the door opened and the accountant appeared. “Sorry about that,” he said, extending his hand. “Come on in.”

  Vines looked around the home, his eyes settling on several boxes and a half-dozen suitcases sitting in the small foyer. “You’re not wasting any time, huh?”

  “No,” John said with a smile. “We’re ready to move on. I don’t know how quickly these things work, but we’re hoping to get on with the whole witness protection thing sooner rather than later. A new start, a new life, you know?”

  “Good for you,” Vines clapped him on the shoulder. “Listen, Mr. Venzo...”

  “John is fine. Please call me John.”

  “Thanks, John. Now listen, I’m trying to follow up on a lead about what happened last night, and I need your help.”

  John looked confused. “My help? I wasn’t the
re. I’m not sure how much help I can be.”

  “I know you weren’t there, but I spoke with someone who was...”

  “Wait. Who?”

  Vines smiled. “That’s going to remain my secret. No offense, John, but I’m not here to brief you on what went down last night. It doesn’t really concern you. What does concern you is helping us out right now. Can you do that for me John? Can you help me out?”

  John nodded.

  “Good. So my contact ID’d the assassin, but I need your help tracking her down.”

  Her. John swallowed hard and looked down. So it’s true. The little bitch at the office pulled the hit.

  “I’m not sure what I can do for you. I don’t know anything,” John said, still looking at the floor.

  Vines studied him. His body language said it all. John knew something, and Vines was going to get it out of him. “What happened to your hand, John?”

  He looked up. “Oh, this? I sliced it trying to get the pit out of an avocado, stupid thing.”

  “Looks fresh,” Vines said. “Happen this morning?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, John, you don’t look like the kind of guy who has an avocado for breakfast. You seem more of a bagel guy like me.” Vines patted his own his spare tire, nodding at John’s.

  “You know, trying to start eating healthier.” John chuckled awkwardly.

  “Uh huh.” Vines stared at him for an uncomfortable moment before continuing. “So this woman, she’s not really tied to the family, but she did have ties with a Bryce Haydenson. Does that name ring a bell?”

  John raised a brow. “I haven’t heard that name in a while.” Of course, he’d just heard it that morning, but why tell the FBI. They wouldn’t kill him for talking. “Didn’t he get killed a year or two ago?”

  Vines chuckled a bit under his breath. “It would seem that way. At least that’s what everyone seems to think. See, the thing is, John, I’m not convinced he’s dead. In fact, I’m pretty convinced that he’s alive, and if I can find him, I can find the hitter from last night.”