Gavin

by Dale Mayer

  “Something like that,” he said. “Often lately it’s been obstacles to something somebody wants.”

  “How does that work?” she asked, genuinely curious now. “Somebody decides somebody’s doing better than they are, so they hire you to just take out the opponent?”

  “Makes it simpler,” he said. “As long as you got the money, you can take out anybody you want.”

  “As long as you’ve got the money,” she murmured, nodding to herself. “So, it goes without saying that your clients must all be wealthy.”

  “Of course,” he said. “What would be the point of working for somebody who’s poor?”

  “Well, it depends. Have you got a percentage in there, for increased growth and profits, based on how the situation will look for them after the person they want taken out is gone?”

  He looked momentarily confused.

  She explained. “Well, you could try fulfilling somebody’s request, but, instead of taking a lump sum payment, you get say 10 percent of their profits for the next five years.”

  He stared at her in surprise with a quick frown. “And who’ll make sure that they pay us?” he sneered.

  “Well, if you don’t get paid, they’ll get the same treatment you gave to their victim, right?”

  He shrugged, obviously not liking her suggestion.

  It made sense to her, but then again she wasn’t into this lovely little business. While they watched and waited, the boss man continued to walk back and forth on the veranda. “Looks like the conversation is getting a bit heated,” she said.

  “It’s serious business,” he said. “We need to get an idea of what they want.”

  “Of course because you’ve got to deliver it. And, if you don’t deliver it right, then there’s a lot of danger of getting caught.”

  “We’ve never been caught yet,” he snapped.

  “So the cops don’t know anything about you? What about the government guys?”

  “The government doesn’t know anything,” he said. “Black ops? Hah! That just means completely in the dark. And that’s all we’ve ever found. Stupid men who don’t know anything.”

  “I guess you haven’t known the right men then, have you?”

  “Or,” he sneered, “maybe you haven’t.”

  “And maybe the ones you do know have been keeping your path nice and smooth.”

  “Of course,” he said, “that’s what we’ve paid them for.”

  “So, you pay them enough to keep them off your back?”

  “That’s how the world works,” he said.

  “In some places, yes,” she admitted sadly. “I guess, in my own way, I’ve always hoped for a better world out there. Instead it seems like, every time I turn around, I’m caught up with this underbelly that’s dark, dank, and ugly.”

  “Well, I’ve been brought up in that underbelly,” he said. “So, when you know how to navigate through this hell, it’s not too bad. And there’s a way to make a world of difference in it.”

  “You mean, a world of difference for yourself,” she said, “because you sure as heck aren’t doing anything to help anybody else, are you?”

  “No way,” he said. “It’s every man for himself.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “So, when your boss is done with you,” she said, “he’ll just knock you off, like he did this guy.” She stared down at the man on the floor, shaking her head. “His poor kids. His poor wife.”

  “Yeah, his wife is a looker too,” he said. “I’ll have to go pay her a private visit.”

  Rosalina’s blood ran cold at that. “Is that really who you are?”

  “Why not?”

  Just then the boss finished his phone call and walked toward the front door. Her guard looked at her and grinned. “Now you’re in for it.”

  Gavin had already checked out the living room and the rest of the lower part of the house as he watched the boss man pace back and forth on the front veranda. He wished he could hear the conversation, but the boss man’s voice was too quiet, and too many walls were between them. Gavin tapped his comm, waiting for Shane to answer. Finally Shane responded that he was in position. “Good. Make sure you get this guy and take him out.”

  “I’ve got the one outside,” Shane confirmed.

  “I’ve got the one inside,” Gavin said. He snuck down the hallway and waited for the moment when the guy’s back was turned. Out of the corner of his eye, Gavin saw Shane coming up on the side of the boss, as he stood there with his hands on his hips as he thought about his next move. He was staring out across the field, and his partner waited for him to come inside. Gavin needed the inside man to look elsewhere, so Shane could get up behind the leader. Gavin deliberately banged the table beside the front door, just out of sight.

  “What the hell?” the gunman roared and came racing toward him.

  Gavin stepped around the corner just as the inside man came barreling around with his gun out. As soon as Gavin caught sight of the gun, he grabbed it and the arm holding it and immediately smacked the guy’s arm hard against his thigh, breaking his bones with an audible crunch, his fist then going next in a hard uppercut to the gunman’s jaw. As the guy came to a sudden stop, Gavin took out his knees, dropped him onto the ground, pulled both his hands back behind him, and pinned him in place.

  Kicking the handgun away, Gavin turned him, giving another hard fist to the side of his head, knocking him out completely. Turning, Gavin saw Rosalina standing there, a shocked look on her face. “Find something to tie him up with,” he said urgently.

  She nodded and raced to the kitchen, returning with heavy zip ties.

  He loved those things. He quickly laced two together and then tied up the hands and then the ankles of his prisoner. Thereafter he picked him up by the collar and dragged him into the kitchen, where he lay him on the floor and left him there.

  “Grab a tea towel or a dishcloth or something and stuff it in his mouth as a gag.”

  As she raced around the kitchen looking for something, Gavin headed back out in the front yard, finding Shane standing there with no sign of the boss. Gavin raced outside and saw the blood pouring down Shane’s leg. “Shit,” he said.

  “You mean, double shit,” Shane said, his tone mild, but he was putting pressure on his thigh.

  “How bad is it?”

  “Just bad enough to keep me from taking off after him,” he said. “I’ll go grab something to take care of this.” He pointed across the field. “He went in that direction.”

  With a second look at his friend’s face but reassured, Gavin took off across the driveway, past the vehicles, and headed to the field. He could easily see the tracks as the gunman kept running. Gavin ran as fast as he could across the field, looking for the boss man, but Gavin also had to consider the guy ahead of him knew the area and definitely had a gun. Just then a shot whizzed past his head, lifting the hair beside his ear. He hit the ground and then reassessed.

  Trees were off to the side, but he, of course, was following the tracks cutting the cleanest path. He immediately changed direction and ran in a zigzag pattern to the trees. Two more shots came his way. Even as they came, he couldn’t see the shooter because the gunman crouched in the tall grass.

  Gavin wove his way through the brush and the trees, heading up until he thought he was closer to the gunman. One nearby tree was a little taller, so he quickly grabbed a lower limb and swung himself up to get a better idea.

  As he looked out through the branches, he saw his quarry, sitting in the long grass, looking for him. Gavin immediately pulled out his handgun, lined up a shot, and fired. The gunman hopped up with a roar, limping, and started to run out of gun range. Gavin couldn’t let that happen, so he lined up a second shot and took out the other leg.

  Down he went.

  But now Gavin had an injured man who was down but still armed. Gavin couldn’t line up a shot to take out the gun due to the long grass, which is what Gavin should have done next. So he dropped to the ground and quickly raced t
oward the gunman, calling out, “Stay down and keep that goddamn gun down.”

  “Fuck you,” the gunman said and started shooting.

  “You do that,” he said, “and all you’ll do is run out of bullets.”

  Immediately he stopped.

  “I’m coming,” Gavin said, “and, if you fire once more, I promise there’ll be a bullet in the center of your forehead, just like you gave that other guy.”

  And there was, indeed, one more shot. But it didn’t come Gavin’s way. Swearing softly, he raced forward and finally came upon the gunman, his hand up against his head, and the gun flat against his skull. The other side of his head had been blown apart. He’d taken the last bullet and had put it into his own brain.

  Gavin stood here, swearing still, as he pulled out his phone and quickly called his team. “This gunman took his own life,” he said. “Goddammit.”

  “What about the other one?” Lennox asked.

  “He’s tied up in the kitchen with Rosalina. Shane took a bullet in the leg. We need a team here with forensics and medics fast.”

  “They’re already on the way,” Lennox said. “Just hang tight.”

  “I’m going back,” he said, “to make sure Shane is okay.” Stopping, he reached down and pulled out the gunman’s wallet. “First I’m sending you photos of this guy and his ID.” He laid all the cards on the man’s chest and took photographs and quickly sent them to Lennox. “See if you can do something with that. From what I overheard, he was hired for the job, and they were supposed to make Rosalina’s death look like an ugly accident, maybe her parents as well.”

  “So all three of them were supposed to die?” Lennox’s voice was sharp. “What about the other sister?”

  “Rosalina mentioned it when she was talking to the guy, but he didn’t confirm or deny that she was supposed to be killed in the same way—or killed at all for that matter. It’s hard to know. What I did catch,” he said, “when I was listening to him talk to Rosalina, was how once he used the pronoun they. As in the lead gunman would call, and they will make a decision.”

  “So, more than one mastermind?”

  “That was my take on it too.” He quickly put everything back into the guy’s wallet and then put it in his pocket. Gavin checked him for anything else and pulled out a set of car keys and a cell phone. “His vehicle is here too,” he said. He pressed the key fob button and heard a resounding beep from a vehicle parked in front of the first house. “I’ll take a quick look at that.”

  “Forensics will be about twenty minutes,” Lennox said.

  “Good. I’ve got to check the vehicle and then Shane. This guy, well, I’ve already done a full search on him. So, unless there’s something I missed, he won’t be a whole lot of use. But run his prints and names and see if we can confirm his ID, get some of his family and friends ID’d too. There’s got to be a connection somewhere. Somebody is after Rosalina and her parents, and just because this guy is done and gone doesn’t mean Rosalina’s out of danger.”

  “And we still have to find the parents.”

  “Yes,” he said. “And that won’t be the easiest thing either. Also we’ve got the three men from the tunnel. Two are dead. By now Shane should have sent you their photos and any IDs off their persons. I suspect they all drove in with the black truck and the old couple, but hopefully forensics can match their prints to the vehicle and/or to any other crimes.”

  “We’ll keep you posted,” Lennox said and rang off.

  Knowing time on his own to search was limited, Gavin raced to the gunman’s vehicle in front of the first house and checked the driver’s side. Nothing helpful was inside the vehicle that he could see. He went over to the passenger side, pulled out the insurance papers, and, though it was under a different name than the dead guy’s IDs, Gavin quickly took images of everything he found and sent it to Lennox too.

  He found a scrap of notepaper with just a cell phone number on it. He took a photo of that and sent it off to Lennox as well. The fact that it was handwritten could mean something. Chances were good it would also mean nothing. Hopefully it would and could add a nail to one of these assholes’ coffins, … all the better. He quickly checked the back seat and just found fast-food wrappers and a couple juice jugs.

  He opened up the trunk, and that was a bit more interesting, as he found rope, gloves, cotton bandannas, and a couple sets of handcuffs. He took photos of it all, sending them off to Lennox. Once he sent photos of the license plates and a couple of the vehicle itself, he closed up the car and raced into the house. There he found Rosalina in the kitchen, looking after Shane, who smiled cheerfully and said, “Just a flesh wound.”

  “It’s hardly a flesh wound,” Rosalina said crossly. “You could have been badly injured.” And, indeed, she must have cut open Shane’s jeans to clean the wound and now pressed a bandage against the wound. She was in the process of tying it securely in place. She looked at Gavin. “How did you fare?”

  “My guy turned the gun on himself,” he said soberly. “Found his vehicle and I’ve got a pile of fake names and fake documents for my team to go through, but I didn’t take any more time up there.” He also held up the jotted-down phone number. “Do you know what that number is?”

  She shook her head. “No. Where did you find it?”

  “On the floor in the passenger seat of the gunman’s car.”

  She frowned. “I don’t think it’s a local number, is it?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” he said. “I have half a mind to dial it, but I don’t want anybody to know I’ve got it, should it be connected to the person behind all this.” He walked over to the man he had on the floor and rolled him over to see hot dark eyes glaring at him. “And this, of course, is our talker.”

  Only the man couldn’t speak because of the gag. Gavin pulled out the gag, lifted his prisoner up, and sat him on a chair with his arms uncomfortably behind him, so he had to sit at the edge. “So, this is your one chance to talk,” he said.

  “Fuck you,” the guy said.

  “Well, your buddy is dead, so your connection to whoever was paying you for this is gone. So, now you aren’t getting any money, and you’ve already admitted to Rosalina that you shot and killed two businessmen a month ago,” Gavin said cheerfully. “You’ll be in jail for a hell of a long time, so you might as well fess up and make it easy on yourself.”

  “You’ll get yours,” he said.

  “Well, it won’t be at your hand,” Gavin said with a smile.

  He shrugged. “Nobody said just the two of us were working on this job.” He sneered at Rosalina and the two guys. “Like I said, you’ll get yours.”

  Chapter 12

  Rosalina looked at Gavin, chewing on her bottom lip.

  He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve kept you safe so far.”

  She nodded. “But this time, one of you got shot.”

  “It’s just a flesh wound,” Shane protested. “That hardly counts, and no way you’re taking me out of the game at this point in time.”

  “If you can’t walk, you’re out of the game,” Gavin said. “And, if you’re leaving a blood trail, you’re out of the game.”

  Shane glared at him. “I’ll be fine, and you damn well know it.”

  And Gavin knew Shane would be because that’s the kind of man he was. Gavin looked down at his uncooperative prisoner and told him to stand up. The guy just ignored him. Gavin tapped him hard against the jaw, rendering him unconscious, then rolled him back to the ground, where he checked his wallet and his pockets. He put the contents of his pockets onto the table and then opened the guy’s wallet. A decent amount of cash was in the back and a bunch of IDs. Gavin quickly laid them all out on the table and took photographs of them.

  “What’s the rush?” she asked, as she studied the pictures. “And who knew his name was Polly?”

  “Yeah, the other guy, his name was Marka,” he said. “I don’t know if those are real names are not. We’ve got addresses here too.”


  “Interesting, right?”

  “Somebody needs to tell the third guy’s wife that he’s not coming home,” she said, with a glance toward the living room, where the mammoth male lay dead.

  “The cops will handle that,” he said.

  She sighed. “Two dead already.”

  “Three. Maybe a fourth in the tunnel that connects these two houses. At least that’s all we know of here alone,” he said. “Don’t forget the warehouse.”

  She winced at that. “Will Polly be just as uncooperative as that sniper guy?”

  “Probably,” he said. “What we still don’t know is who’s behind all this.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “And how does Polly have so much money?” She rifled through the money, which was mostly in larger denominations.

  “He’s probably been prepaid for a certain amount of the job,” Gavin said. “He’d get the rest when he was done.”

  “Scary thought,” she said. “Somebody’s life reduced to just these bills.”

  “Not just somebody’s life,” he said. “Your life.”

  She frowned. “That makes it even worse.”

  “Exactly.” Gavin nodded. “The local law enforcement are on their way,” Gavin said, “and they won’t be happy.”

  “Maybe not,” she said indignantly, “but we had to rescue ourselves.”

  He chuckled as she stood up, walked closer. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He knew it was more shock than anything, but she was the sweetest thing to hug him. And he knew that she’d shoot him for even thinking it. “It’s okay now,” he whispered. “We got the kidnappers.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice muffled against her shirt. “But,” she murmured, “the masterminds behind it are still unknown and on the loose.”

  “Right,” he said. “Give us an hour here, and then we’ll get you back to the hotel.”

  “That would be nice,” she said, yawning. “I still need sleep.”

  “Lucky you. At least you got some,” he said with a grin. In the distance, he heard sirens coming. “Here’s the cavalry. Where’s your phone?