Witness Protection 9: S.N.A.F.U.

by Holly Copella

  Holden shook his head in disbelief. “This guy is like a homicidal ninja,” he remarked. “Daring killings in a small time frame with a high risk of being seen.”

  “And somehow no one ever does,” the medical examiner replied. “Detective McGrath is with the two young women from the spa who last saw him alive. He has them in the room down the hall.”

  Holden stuffed his notebook into his pocket and removed his cell phone. “I’ll read their statements from the detective,” he announced. “I need to call this in.”

  Holden hurried from the room and pressed a button as he headed down the corridor for the police officer and the yellow police line. He ducked under the tape and walked across the empty waiting room.

  “Othello,” Holden announced with some urgency. “Contact the team. There’s been another killing. It wasn’t Marco.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” Othello responded from the other end.

  “Tell them to sit tight,” Holden remarked. “I’ll see about getting word out to call off the dogs.”

  Chapter 48

  Othello paced Holden’s living room that now contained stacks of old food containers, empty pizza boxes, and various other trash. The once immaculate room looked like a home away from home for the computer genius. Othello held his cell phone to his ear while pacing.

  “Come on, guys,” he groaned with concern. “Why aren’t you picking up?”

  Othello finally disconnected the call, cast his cell phone aside, and removed a second cell phone. He pressed a button and waited for a response. The kitchen door opened, and Holden bolted into the house.

  “What’s the word?” Holden asked.

  “Holden,” Othello announced with concern and disconnected the call he’d been attempting to make. “I tried both of my special numbers. No one’s answering.”

  “What does that mean?” Holden demanded with concern in his voice.

  “It means they’re not answering,” Othello responded with frustration then appeared animated. “I’m 9-1-1, man. When I call, they pick up! I can see not getting through on one phone but not both.” He shook his head in concern. “I’ve got a bad feeling.”

  “You call Sal,” Holden just about exploded while pointing at Othello. “He needs to contact Giovanni. We need to get the word out far and wide that Marco was in custody during the last murder.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Othello replied, then tensed. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to call Vinnie and hope he can get through to his grandson,” Holden replied. “Vincent is the one who put the bounty on Marco’s head. He’s our best chance to call them off.”

  While Othello recovered his untraceable burner phone and made his call to Sal, Holden found the number for Vinnie the knife. Othello was already talking to Sal as Holden’s call to Vinnie went straight to voicemail. Othello appeared animated and immediately stopped pacing.

  “Sal?” Othello announced into the phone. “Sal? Are you there?”

  Holden disconnected his call and glanced at Othello with some concern. Whatever was being said, it was a one-sided conversation from Sal’s end.

  “I hear you, but--” Othello remarked into the phone but was interrupted. “No, Sal. That’s not a good--” Othello then groaned and disconnected the call.

  “What’s up with Sal?” Holden demanded.

  “Nothing good,” Othello announced while seeming tense. “Sal just got word that half a dozen rogue bounty hunters had teamed up with a whole bunch of mercs and hitmen. They were reportedly heading toward the state game land a couple hours’ drive from here.”

  Holden appeared alarmed while staring at Othello’s concerned look. “That’s not good,” he announced.

  “It’s worse than that,” Othello responded as his eyes widened dramatically. “Sal had tried calling Vinnie, apparently having the same idea as you. He and Giovanni are just pulling up to Vinnie’s mansion now. He hung up on me.”

  “Of all the stupid--”

  “Right before he hung up, he said Vincent’s car was already there,” Othello continued while cringing.

  Holden ran his fingers through his hair and sank into thought before shifting his attention back to Othello. “Keep trying the guys. Hopefully, we’re not already too late to warn them about the onslaught heading their way.”

  Othello stared at Holden with concern. “You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you?”

  Holden frowned. “Yeah, I’m doing something stupid. I’m going to confront Vincent and tell him to call off the dogs,” he remarked.

  “He may not listen,” Othello quickly announced with a nervous look on his face. “He may just decide to shoot you instead.”

  “I’ll make him listen,” Holden insisted. “And if he doesn’t call off the bounty--? Well, they can’t collect a bounty off a dead man.”

  As Holden stormed from the house, Othello tensed and held his breath. “This is not going to end well,” Othello groaned softly.

  §

  Holden’s official black blazer pulled up to Vinnie Scartelli’s mansion, driving past two unfamiliar vehicles and one he recognized as Giovanni’s black sedan. Holden parked his blazer near the front entrance, parking in such a way that he wouldn’t be exposed to the house windows or doors on his driver’s side. Just as a precaution. He got out of his vehicle and stood behind it a moment while surveying the mansion and listening for anything that sounded remotely like a gunfight. The mansion was eerily silent.

  “That can’t be good,” Holden muttered, then shut his car door.

  He again looked at the mansion, seeming to have his reservations, cautiously eyeing each window for movement. When he still didn’t see anything, he walked around his vehicle and approached the main entrance. Holden paused before the door and was about to press the doorbell when he saw the front door was ajar. Holden removed his weapon from his shoulder holster while moving to the side of the door. He slowly pushed the door open a little wider in order to peer inside.

  “Vinnie?” Holden announced and took a sweeping eyeful of the familiar foyer and grand hallway. “Vinnie, it’s Holden with the FBI.”

  There was still no response. Holden drew a deep breath and held it a moment. With a man like Vinnie, there was no right or wrong way of handling this situation. They were all equally fatal. Holden cautiously walked through the grand hallway toward the lounge at the far end, being the room he had first met Vinnie the knife. As he got closer to the back lounge, he could hear angry voices. Holden paused outside the lounge and pressed his back against the wall, listening to the heated exchange. When he heard Sal’s voice, he shut his eyes and withheld his groan. He clutched his gun close to his chest and listened a moment longer before peering around the corner, hoping to go unnoticed by those within the room. He needed to scope the layout for hostiles. From his brief glance into the room, he saw Vincent and four of his mercenaries with their backs to the doorway. The four rough types had their weapons aimed at Giovanni’s two goons and Vinnie’s two aging bodyguards, who returned the favor by having their guns aimed at them.

  From what Holden could see, Vinnie was in the less comfy chair near the fireplace while Sal and Giovanni were standing just in front of the old, thick portable bar. If any of the three wise guys were armed, Holden didn’t see their weapons. Holden again pressed his back against the wall and swiftly contemplated several scenarios of how it would play out. Holden shut his eyes a moment, drew a deep breath, and went with the option that would possibly cause the least amount of bloodshed, although none of them was exactly ideal in this situation. A gathering of volatile killer types with guns pointed at each other wasn’t going to end well for anyone. Holden moved into the doorway just far enough to aim his weapon at the men with their backs to him.

  “FBI. Put your guns down,” Holden announced, just bold enough to get their attention. He didn’t want to provoke any of the men to--

  Two of Vincent’s mercenaries spun and immediately fired their weapons at Holden. Holden
ducked back around the corner just in time to avoid the barrage of bullets coming at him. Their gunfire prompted the beginning of World War III, with Giovanni and Vinnie’s men firing back at Vincent’s mercenaries. Holden could hear Vinnie’s mercenaries thumping across the floor for the hallway. They were running for cover from the shootout and to take out Holden. Being Holden was no match for the number of men coming at him, he bolted down the hallway and into the nearest room. Holden sought shelter within the game room doorway and looked back into the hallway to take down the men who were almost certainly coming for him. When he looked in the hallway, the four men were outside the doorway, firing into the lounge, leaving themselves exposed to Holden.

  Holden was mildly surprised that they’d leave themselves open and exposed like that, but he saw his chance and took it. As Holden was about to step into the hallway, despite the gunfire from the next room over, he heard a floorboard creak within the game room behind him. Holden spun just in time to see Vincent directly behind him, having slipped through some sort of concealed doorway connecting the two rooms. Holden raised his gun, but he wasn’t fast enough. Vincent pulled his trigger first, and the gun fired with a loud bang.

  §

  Within the sanctuary, gunshots were heard from every corner. The men plotting their attack knew they were discovered and no longer bothered with the silent approach. Back in the visitor’s center, Beck fired shots out the broken window at the men now running just outside the main entrance. Several men fired back while others continued on to the next area, fanning out. With men running everywhere, it was nearly impossible to stop all of them. Despite Beck’s best effort to keep the men from approaching, they were getting through. There was a loud crash from the back of the visitor’s center. The men were coming at him from behind and had successfully surrounded him. Beck had to abandon his post or risk being shot from behind. He darted into the back hallway and could hear someone closing in on him. He slipped into the closest office and darted behind the door. Beck slung his rifle over his shoulder and removed his Bowie knife from his boot.

  If any gunshots were heard, it would bring the rest of the men upon him. He had to keep his attack silent yet deadly. The office door was slowly pushed open, and the barrel of a rifle came into Beck’s view. As soon as the man moved into the doorway, Beck had to intercept him. A trained professional would look to the side of the door first, giving him only precious seconds to make his move. Beck grabbed the barrel of the rifle, pushed it up into the air, and lunged forward with his knife. He struck the man in the neck, holding him in place while he gasped and spat up blood. Beck caught the man before he fell and pulled him into the room. He lowered the man to the floor, pulled his knife free, and wiped the blood from the blade onto the man’s shoulder.

  Beck listened but didn’t hear anyone else approaching. He kept his rifle slung and removed his semiautomatic from his shoulder holster. He cautiously looked into the dimly lit hallway, being the lights were off, only limited natural light filled the corridor. When he didn’t see anyone, he slipped into the hallway. There was no telling how many intruders had successfully infiltrated the visitor’s center. Beck cautiously returned to the lobby, looked around, and then headed for the snack bar. He slipped behind the counter and positioned himself where he could look over the counter and still remain hidden. He replaced his semiautomatic and removed the rifle slung over his shoulder.

  Three armed men entered through the main entrance. So much for keeping quiet and not alerting anyone to his position. Beck straightened and fired several rounds, taking all three men down before any could return fire. Beck ducked behind the counter and waited. When no one else appeared, he hurried for the back exit of the visitor’s center, which would be the quickest route to the clinic.

  Beck tapped his ear transmitter while on the move. “Ross, you may have some bogeys coming your way. I’m heading to you.”

  “Copy that,” Ross replied.

  §

  Within the vet’s office inside the clinic, Ross handed Marco an automatic rifle and gave him a stern look. “You do know how to use one of these, right?”

  Marco managed a strange, twisted smile. “I think I can figure it out,” he replied while accepting the weapon.

  “I need to greet Beck at the side entrance,” Ross informed him. “Stay in here with the door locked until I get back. If anyone other than someone from the team arrives, shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Marco nodded. Once Ross left the room, Marco locked the door behind him.

  “Come on, Marco,” Sam announced from her position within the large cage. She now appeared concerned or possibly frightened. “Let me out of here. I can help, I swear. If those men find me, I’m as good as dead. At least let me defend myself.”

  Marco glanced at her, frowned, and shook his head. “I have no reason to trust you.”

  “You have no reason to trust anyone else either,” she insisted. “Sometimes, you just need to have a little blind faith.” Her eyes pleaded with his. “Do what’s right. I won’t ask again.”

  “Sorry,” Marco informed her and returned his attention to the door, attempting to listen for any sounds just outside the clinic. He suddenly hesitated and turned his head to look back at the cage.

  Sam now stood behind him with a tiny, almost sympathetic smirk on her face. She punched him in the stomach and snatched the rifle, turning it on him as he reacted to the hit. Marco gingerly rubbed his abdomen and stared at Sam, holding the weapon on him.

  She smiled sweetly. “In my defense, I did ask nicely,” Sam announced.

  §

  Beck followed Ross along the corridor heading for the clinic. Ross paused before the door and tapped on it. The door slowly moved inward from the pressure of his knock, indicating it wasn’t even shut, let alone locked. Ross appeared somewhat concerned and pushed the door open while securing his handgun. He moved into the doorway and aimed his gun across the room. Beck kept his rifle aimed as well. Marco stood behind the bars of the gorilla cage and looked at Ross while frowning.

  “She got away,” Marco informed Ross.

  “Well, at least she didn’t take Marco this time,” Beck remarked to Ross and found the keys for the cage lock.

  “She must have slipped out the back while we were at the side door,” Ross scoffed.

  Beck unlocked the cage door and released Marco from the cell.

  “I say good riddance,” Marco muttered in annoyance, now freed from the cage. “She probably would have gotten us killed anyway.”

  §

  The sanctuary sounded like a war zone as intruders ascended upon the team from all ends. Not far from the bird aviary entrance, Gil had a secured position behind a large, heavy sign. Darth, who was sporting his bullet-proof vest and a small doggie saddlebag, kept low and watched the area behind Gil, despite that the building offered some protection. Gil had his rifle scope trained on the tree line but kept his shots to a minimum. He needed to conserve ammo. It was unclear how many men were still out there. Kirk was heard firing from nearby and took shots anytime someone poked their head out. There was no telling how much ammo he’d gone through already. When Kirk stopped firing, it was a pretty good indication he’d gone through all his spare magazines. One or two men suddenly felt confident he was out of ammo and made their move into the clearing. Gil waited for them to move out and shot both. Two men; two clean shots.

  Darth suddenly snarled from behind Gil. Gil spun with his rifle aimed. Kirk came into view, darted behind the large sign, and took cover. Being there were no shots fired from the woods, they must not have seen him.

  “I’m out of ammo,” Kirk informed Gil, then went for the small saddlebag Darth wore over his bulletproof vest.

  “I’m not surprised,” Gil remarked and again focused on the woods. “Were you even aiming?”

  Kirk removed two large magazines from Darth’s bags and placed one in his pocket. He slapped the other into his rifle and glared at Gil.

  “Hey, I took more of
them down than you did,” Kirk informed him. “Neatness doesn’t count.”

  “It’s quiet out there,” Gil remarked while ignoring Kirk’s comment and kept his focus on the woods. “I thought there were more.”

  “I think one or two took the long way around,” Kirk informed him. “Probably heading deeper into the sanctuary.” He aimed his rifle and scanned the area. “Ross is going to need reinforcements.”

  Darth suddenly became alert and snarled. Both men turned to the same opening Kirk had slipped through. A bullet struck the side of the sign.

  “Or they could be behind us,” Kirk remarked and fired back.

  “Into the aviary,” Gil announced and indicated the nearby door.

  “Are you kidding?” Kirk cried out without looking at Gil in horror. “Damned building has glass walls!”

  “It also has a forest inside,” Gil informed him, then motioned Darth to the open aviary doorway.

  Darth ran inside the aviary. Gil darted after him, stopped by the doorway, and covered Kirk as he ran for the door. Both disappeared inside. Kirk and Gil ran deeper into the massive bird sanctuary and darted behind larger trees. They aimed their weapons at the door and fired at the two men who bolted inside after them. The two men were Nolte and Slade. Both men immediately took cover while blocking the exit.

  “Why are we wasting our time with these two?” Slade demanded. “While we’re here, the others are moving in on Marco.”

  “The others don’t know where Marco is any more than we do,” Nolte snapped back, then nodded deeper into the aviary. “We get one of these stupid assholes to talk, and they tell us where they’re hiding the mother.”

  “And that doesn’t get us any closer to Marco,” Slade insisted while becoming annoyed. “It’s obvious he isn’t being held in a glass birdcage. We should be going for one of the stronger buildings. Anywhere but here.”

  Nolte glared at Slade, and his eyes narrowed. “You want to terminate our agreement?” Nolte demanded, then sneered at him. “You’re free to go your own way, but I’m the only reason you got this far.”