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

by Holly Copella

  Giovanni casually removed one of the bottles of brandy from the bar near where they sat and looked at the label. He then eyed Sal.

  “You know, we’re probably going to die here,” Giovanni announced, revealing little concern.

  Sal glared at his old friend and didn’t appreciate his carefree attitude. “Maybe that’s your intention, but I have other plans,” he announced.

  Giovanni shrugged and found two glasses. He opened the bottle and poured each of them a glass of brandy. As he handed one of the glasses to Sal, Sal again glared at him.

  “Seriously?” Sal demanded.

  Giovanni again shrugged, showing little emotion. “There’s not much else we can do,” he remarked. “Unless, of course, you want me to find you a baseball bat and let you have a go at them.”

  “Not funny,” Sal scoffed.

  “I thought it was.” Giovanni sipped the brandy and shut his eyes, savoring it. “Oh, that’s the good stuff.” He then eyed Sal and gave a general nod. “Is Vinnie still alive?”

  Sal glanced around the sturdy bar and eyed Vinnie, still sitting in his chair without a care in the world. Sal looked back at Giovanni and shook his head.

  “Miraculously, yes,” Sal replied.

  “And Holden?” Giovanni asked while gently swirling the contents of his brandy snifter.

  “He’s probably dead,” Sal scoffed, then lifted his glasses to rub his eyes. “Jackie’s going to kill me.”

  §

  Holden lay unconscious on the hardwood floor within Vinnie's game room with his left wrist cuffed to an old radiator. He’d been shot in his right shoulder, and the gash on his temple suggested he’d been pistol-whipped. His head injury seemed to have stopped bleeding, but there was still plenty of blood down the side of his face and covering his white shirt beneath his jacket. Holden slowly woke to the sounds of gunshots one room over and realized where he was and what had happened. He pulled himself into a sitting position, immediately feeling the pain in his injured right shoulder and the throbbing of his head. He looked around the room a moment, then realized he’d been handcuffed to the radiator. Holden groaned at the realization that he’d been shot, coal copped, and detained with his own handcuffs. Not his finest moment. He attempted to reach into his pants pocket with his free right hand. The gunshot wound was enough to make him cringe in agonizing pain.

  Not too surprising; the keys were gone. Naturally, Vincent had taken the handcuff keys when he cuffed him. Holden groaned and took a moment to rest his head against the old-fashioned radiator. The sound of gunshots continued in the next room. With his eyes still closed, Holden suddenly smiled and snorted a laugh. He opened his eyes and slid his foot closer to him. He reached inside his shoe and removed a spare handcuff key. Keeping a spare key was something he learned after the first time he’d been handcuffed by someone he had been pursuing. One of his fonder memories of Jackie when they’d first met.

  §

  Vincent’s four men took turns poking their heads through the lounge doorway, firing at the two sets of enforcers within the room. Both sides of the doorframe were splintered with bullet holes. None of Vincent’s mercenaries seemed willing to shoot at the old man still casually reclined in his chair near the fireplace. Did Vinnie believe he was untouchable? Or did he just not care if anyone shot him in the head? Vincent paced the hallway not far from the foyer and the grand stairs, far enough from the raging war just down the hall.

  “I thought you guys were tough mercenaries,” Vincent boldly announced to his four men attempting to take the lounge by force. “You can’t take down a couple of old bodyguards and two meatheads?”

  The man closest to Vincent turned and glared at his boss. “Those old bodyguards and meatheads have guns the same as us,” the man snarled with irritation. “Bullets don’t discriminate.” He then resumed firing into the room, alternating with his cohorts.

  Vincent rolled his eyes and groaned. “Spare me the dramatics,” he remarked.

  “You just worry about the fed,” the man snarled back at his boss.

  “He’s been taking care of,” Vincent snapped back. “Just end this!”

  The mercenary by the lounge doorway sneered and again turned to face Vincent. The hallway and foyer were empty. Vincent was gone.

  The man frowned and shook his head. “Dick.”

  Just off the foyer, within the nearby game room, Vincent struggled against the arm wrapped tight around his neck, holding him in a chokehold. Holden sneered while applying pressure to Vincent’s neck and kept his lips close to the struggling man’s ear.

  “You’re going to listen to me, you son-of-a-bitch,” Holden snarled into his ear, “or so help me, I’ll snap your fucking neck.”

  “You’re a fed,” Vincent gasped while attempting to sound confident despite his obvious panic. He managed a tiny chuckle and even smirked. “You can’t do anything to me. You have rules--”

  Holden applied pressure to Vincent’s neck, forcing him to gasp for air. “At this very moment, there are no rules,” he snarled in Vincent’s ear. “And, right now, being a fed only means I know how and where to hide your body.” He loosened his grip just enough to let the man breathe.

  Vincent gasped in an attempt to catch his breath. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to listen to what I have to say, and then I want you to do what’s right,” Holden growled close to his ear with a rarely seen anger.

  “I’m listening,” Vincent announced while breathing heavily and grasping at the arm around his neck.

  “The man responsible for your brother’s murder struck again,” Holden informed him in a less threatening tone, although he didn’t lessen the pressure on Vincent’s neck. “Marco has been in federal custody for the last few days. It wasn’t him. He’s innocent.”

  “Why do you care?” Vincent just about demanded despite his bad position.

  “Because every hitman and mercenary on the West Coast is descending upon Marco at this very moment,” Holden informed him. “My team, the ones protecting him, is in danger, and you can stop it.”

  “I can’t stop them,” Vincent declared, now seeming fearful for his life. “I don’t have every hitman listed in my phone contacts. These things take time.”

  “We don’t have time.” Holden tightened his grip around Vincent’s neck and forced him to gasp. “I suggest you get creative. Either you call them off, and I let you walk, or I’ll snap your fucking neck. Clock’s ticking.”

  Chapter 51

  Bogart and Nevada hurried across the sanctuary with their weapons cradled in their arms, prepared for action. Monroe, Rowen, and Quinn stepped outside the old train as the two approached and looked around.

  “Have you seen any others?” Monroe asked.

  Bogart and Nevada shook their heads.

  “I’m sure some got through, though,” Bogart replied and continued to look around. “It’s a big place.”

  “We’d better get back to operations and make sure they’re still good,” Monroe announced. “Ross has been unusually quiet, and that can’t be good.”

  Rowen and Quinn’s cell phones simultaneously dinged. Both men seemed oddly surprised and removed their phones. Nevada peered over Rowen’s shoulder at the text on his cell phone. Her stunned look turned hostile.

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” she shouted in anger.

  “What is it?” Monroe asked and peered at Quinn’s cell phone as well. He appeared equally shocked and turned anxious. “We need to report this.”

  “You take Nevada and Quinn to the clinic and check on Ross,” Bogart announced, then indicated Rowen. “Rowen and I need to get to the visitor’s center.”

  “The visitor’s center?” Nevada asked with surprise. “Why would you want to go there?”

  “Trust me,” Bogart announced. “I know what I’m doing.” He motioned for Rowen to follow him.

  §

  Ross slammed and bolted the clinic door behind Beck. Both men backed across the clinic while keeping their rifles aimed a
t the door and joined Marco near the gorilla cage, which seemed to be the securest place.

  “Marco, take refuge in the gorilla cage,” Ross firmly instructed and handed Marco a semiautomatic pistol.

  Marco clutched the gun and stared past the men at the door. “How many are out there?”

  “I don’t know,” Beck informed him. “They just plowed down the main entrance. I didn’t wait around to take a headcount.”

  Marco hurried into the gorilla cage and remained just out of sight alongside the cement block wall. They heard gunfire coming from outside the door, but they were confident the gunfire wasn’t aimed at the door itself. Ross and Beck exchanged confused looks.

  “One of us?” Beck asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ross replied. “I lost contact with the rest of the team. Too much interference.”

  The corridor beyond the clinic door became still and quiet. Ross and Beck toppled the metal examination table, took refuge behind it, and aimed their weapons at the door.

  “It’s too quiet out there,” Beck muttered.

  For a moment, the silence was almost deafening. A loud explosion suddenly shook the building, and the metal door was blown inward, straight for the metal exam table. Ross and Beck were thrown from the blast that rattled the entire clinic. The cinderblock construction was the only thing that kept the whole building from collapsing. Smoke and dust filled the large clinic room. Carter stormed inside only a second later with his weapon aimed. Ross lay motionless on the opposite side of the room from the gorilla cage. Beck saw the intruder and attempted to grab his discarded rifle while gagging on the thick smoke. Carter shot at him, nearly hitting him. Beck rolled out of the way, without his weapon, and behind a small piece of wall. Carter fired several shots at Beck, but the bullets ricocheted off the cinder block. Carter took two cautious steps closer to where Beck had taken cover just beyond the gorilla cage.

  “Come on out,” Carter snarled while keeping his rifle pointed at the small wall. “I won’t shoot you if you turn over Marco.”

  Carter heard a thump from the opposite end of the room and spun with his weapon aimed. Ross was gone! As the smoke and dust settled, Carter scanned the room with his weapon. Marco remained hidden alongside the gorilla cage wall, barely poked his head out while aiming his gun, and fired at the armed intruder. Before Carter had a chance to aim his weapon, the bullet struck his lower arm near the rifle. Although it was just a deep scratch, Carter dropped his weapon and clutched his bleeding arm. Successfully unarmed, he leaped out of the way before Marco fired the next shot. The bullet whizzed past his head, almost taking him out. Carter rolled across the floor out of Marco’s line-of-sight and sprang to his feet while reaching for his holstered semiautomatic. Ross was suddenly standing before Carter and punched him in the mouth, sending him back several steps. Despite the hard hit, Carter collected himself and lunged for Ross.

  Carter tackled the much older man to the floor and punched him in the face. Ross took one hard hit to the jaw but immediately shot back with a throat punch. Carter gasped and wheezed from the hit. Ross tossed the man off him and moved back to his feet with less vigor than Zack always managed. Despite gasping to catch his breath and the agony he must have been feeling, Carter managed to jump back to his feet and again charged Ross since it worked the first time. Ross seemed to anticipate the action this time. He dodged to the side and caught Carter around the neck in a chokehold. Carter attempted to break the hold, but Ross refused to release him. With some effort, Ross snapped Carter’s neck. The cracking sound echoed throughout the entire room. Ross let out a groan of exhaustion and released Carter. The man fell lifelessly to the floor. Beck snatched his discarded rifle and joined Marco as he hurried for Ross, who gasped several times before straightening.

  “Zack makes it look so easy,” Ross announced, clearly winded from the added exertion.

  They could hear more gunshots outside and the sound of movement coming from the corridor.

  “There are more of them,” Marco gasped with alarm. “What do we do?”

  “They’re already inside,” Ross announced and indicated the gorilla cage. “Take cover. The exterior entrances are reinforced from the outside. There’s no place left for us to go.”

  Ross grabbed Carter’s discarded rifle, and all three men darted inside the gorilla cage behind the cinderblock wall, which would provide some safety.

  §

  Zack cautiously hurried through the corridor outside the sleeping quarters within the clinic building. Several men lay dead on the floor, almost certainly killed by one of their own. It was apparent Carter no longer had any use for the additional men. More of Carter’s expendable men were seen up ahead near the clinic itself. A few of them spotted Zack and spun to fire at him. He fired back and leaped into a nearby, open bedroom doorway. More gunfire came from the back entrance to the sleeping quarters behind Zack. Zack poked his head out with his rifle aimed and saw Jackie firing at the men near the clinic. Zack grinned, spun, and fired at the men as well, providing cover for Jackie. She joined him in the bedroom doorway and safety.

  “Where’s your new boyfriend?” Zack teased.

  Jackie ejected the magazine from her rifle and fished around Zack’s thigh pants pocket for a fresh one. She removed the full magazine and slapped it into the rifle.

  “Halfway to his parked car by now,” Jackie informed him while cocking her weapon. She then nodded down the hall. “What do we have?”

  “Half a dozen men outside the clinic,” Zack reported. “I heard gunfire from inside the clinic, so they’ve already breached the barrier. We’ll need to distract them.”

  “Okay,” Jackie replied, then stepped into the doorway behind Zack and fired at the men down the hall.

  Zack crouched down and fired from his lowered position. He turned his head and saw Jackie’s leg was bleeding just above the knee.

  “Were you shot?” he asked.

  “Not now, Zack,” she announced while concentrating on returning fire with the men in the hallway from her partially hidden position.

  Zack removed gauze wrap from his large, leg pocket, turned in the doorframe, and swiftly wrapped her leg while she fired at the men. Jackie didn’t even pay attention to Zack tending to her injury except when he tightened the wrap with a little added vigor.

  She gasped slightly, looked down, and then snarled at him, “That hurt.”

  “That’ll teach you to get injured without permission,” he retorted, then secured his weapon and again returned fire down the hall.

  “I’m running low on ammo,” Jackie announced. “What do you have left on you?”

  “That was my last magazine,” he informed her. “I just have two mags left for my 9mm.”

  Jackie groaned with disgust and tossed the empty rifle aside. She removed her semiautomatic and remained in position without firing.

  “Gotta conserve ammo,” Jackie announced. “If we can get to my room, I have a few more 9mm mags.”

  “How about you start hitting some bad guys?” Zack snapped back. “Who the hell taught you to shoot?”

  “I’m pretty sure it was you,” she scoffed.

  §

  Bogart hurried Rowen into the visitor’s center and bolted toward the welcome desk off to the right side. Rowen ran after him, keeping pace.

  “Will this work?” Rowen asked while keeping an eye out for any unexpected visitors.

  “It has to,” Bogart replied, then slid alongside the PA system for the park and threw several switches.

  There was a loud humming sound that nearly shattered their eardrums. Both men cried out with surprise as Bogart quickly adjusted the volume. They could hear gunfire close by and getting closer. Kirk and Gil were heard shouting inaudible words through Bogart’s ear transmitter, which wasn’t helping. Bogart did his best to ignore the idle chatter, but he was able to take away that everyone was getting low on ammo, and there were still endless bad guys in sight. The rifle fire now turned to handgun fire. Bogart moved away from the
PA system and indicated the microphone to Rowen.

  “Do it,” Bogart announced.

  §

  Slade appeared from the clinic's kitchen area and shot two of the men attempting to make their way into the nearby vet’s office. He approached the open kitchen doorway and saw some men by the sleeping quarters’ corridor firing in the opposite direction. They were busy fending off someone else, giving Slade free access to the vet’s office. Slade grabbed one of the dead men’s rifles and stepped into the clinic doorway. From where he stood, the vet’s office appeared to be empty. Deeper within the clinic, Ross remained hidden along the gorilla cage's edge with his semiautomatic in hand and looked at Beck, who was crouched against the wall close to his legs.

  “How many rounds do you have left?” Ross whispered.

  “Two,” Beck replied and briefly glanced up at Ross.

  Ross eyed Marco and indicated his weapon, then Beck. Marco reluctantly gave Beck his pistol.

  “We need to make them count,” Ross insisted.

  Slade darted across the clinic and dived behind the doctor’s desk. He now had a clear shot at them from his hidden vantage point. All three men leaped behind the cot, overturning it, but it wouldn’t be enough.

  “Hand over Marco,” Slade called out while crouched behind the desk. “I’m not interested in the rest of you. No one else needs to die!”

  Marco tensed at their dire situation then eyed Ross and Beck, who kept their weapons aimed across the clinic. “Let me go out there,” Marco announced to them. “We’re sitting ducks in here. I can buy you enough time to get one shot at him before he shoots me.”

  Ross and Beck eyed Marco then exchanged looks. Ross looked back at Marco. “Bad idea,” Ross informed him. “We won’t get much of a shot.”

  “He’s in position to take us all out,” Marco insisted, then offered a sympathetic look. “He’s getting me one way or another. This is your only hope to get him. I’d rather die here than be taken to Vincent alive.”