The Santini Vendetta

by Christopher Fox

  “Call the guy I suggested,” Frederico said. “I called him and he said he will provide anything you need. He is also a security agent in a similar business to mine and has lots of connections in Chicago.”

  “OK, I’ll call him.”

  Kyle entered the address in his Google Maps app and zoomed into the residence. The location marker did not show exactly on the house, but closer to one than the others. It showed a large building with a separate garage and another small building. The lots for the houses in the area were large, probably half an acre, with four properties to a block, each bordering on two streets. An alleyway separated the properties that should allow clandestine access to the house from the rear. He moved the ‘little man’ symbol in the bottom corner of the map to the road for a horizontal view, and scanned the front of the house listed as #26. The picture wasn’t current because it showed abundant landscaping, not snow. However, he did notice a stone walkway leading from the driveway to stone steps—and there were four. He moved the ‘little man’ down the road to the next house and then up the road, then swung it around to the other side. He was sure the first house is the one where they held Carmen. Based on Frederico’s suggestions, he planned to scout out the house for a couple of days to see any comings and goings. Kyle hoped he would recognize one or more of the goons that accompanied him there, just to be certain. The ‘supplies’ he needed for getting into the house necessitated a trip to a hardware store. He would need a car, so he took a cab to the nearest Hertz location and rented a Ford Escape SUV with all-wheel drive, then drove back to the hotel.

  * * * *

  Kyle set out after dark to surveil the house after speaking with Alex and confirming that the target phone was still at the location. He had purchased an inexpensive dash cam and stuck it onto the window. This allowed him to slink down in the car seat and see the screen for any movement around the subject house, parking between street lights so that any passers-by would be less likely to see him. He made sure it wasn’t a 'no parking' zone like the opposite side of the road. A police car crept along the road and turned at the end. Kyle’s adrenaline shifted up a notch when a car’s headlights appeared behind him, and he heard the engine shut off and a door open and close. He waited for someone to approach his car, but no one did, so he poked his head up and saw a woman crossing the road to the house on the other side. Kyle continued to watch the iridescent screen of the dash cam. After an hour or so, he saw a car pull into the laneway of the observed house, its lights turn off and the interior light illuminate. He sat up and started the car–he wanted to get a close-up view of the person or persons entering the house. Crawling past the house, he looked at a man walk up the steps and enter the house. It was difficult to tell from a rear view, but he resembled one of the men who escorted Kyle last night. He circled the block and parked again where he had before, shut off the engine and continued to spy on the house. The cell-phone signature confirmed at least one other person was in the house before the recent visitor, so at least two with which to deal. Now it was almost midnight and no one came out of the house, so he returned to the hotel, planning another sojourn tomorrow.

  Back at the hotel, he contacted the Playa Hermosa Hotel and downloaded the latest information from his new assistant he hired to replace Anna. Everything was fine with very few issues with guests; it still being off-season and occupancy low. The main A/C unit acted up again so she had to call the mechanical contractor. Kyle was trying to wring more life out of it, not wanting to expend the money to replace it. However, seeing as the prime season was next month, he authorized her to go ahead with the replacement.

  His mind wandered back to Anna for a moment and a pang of hurt shot through his heart like an arrow. Eradicating the thoughts from his mind, he called Alberto again to give him an update.

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve found the house,” Kyle said. “From the Google Maps view, it looks like the same driveway and steps I was led up last night blindfolded. I also saw someone go into the house who resembled one of the men, but didn’t see his face. I’m going there tomorrow and chance sitting out during the day to see if someone comes out who I recognize.”

  “That’s encouraging,” said Alberto. “Any idea how you will get in?”

  “I have a plan,” Kyle said without elaborating.

  There was a pause on the phone.

  “We’re not going to get three million for Friday,” Alberto said.

  “I was afraid of that. As today is Wednesday, that means I’ll have to do this tomorrow night.”

  “I’m sure he will carry out his threat and kill her if we don't get her out of there,” said Alberto.

  “You're probably right and I would not like to roll that dice.”

  This placed Kyle in an uncomfortable position. Reconnaissance is vital to any plan where lives are at stake. He had to be sure it was the right house, although he had no concerns about that now. He would have liked to wait for the best opportunity to carry out his plan and he still needed to research the house and how to get entry. When he checked the long-range weather forecast earlier in the day, a snow storm brewing over Lake Michigan will hit Chicago tomorrow night, just when he would be planning the raid. This could be a bonus as visibility will be poor and layers of snow would reduce noise—but not the best for a fast getaway.

  Kyle returned to the hardware store and bought a white hooded parka, sheepskin-lined gloves and a pair of Mukluks. With the temperature plummeting to -12ºC overnight, he didn’t know how long he would be out in the cold.

  Eleven

  After breakfast at a local McDonald’s, Kyle drove back to W. Franklin Street and drove around the house, first the block and then through the alleyway. Unfortunately, the high fence behind the property prevented Kyle from getting a good view of the back of the house. A gate led into the alleyway and several garbage cans sat outside it. He parked where he did the previous night and slunk down in the seat, using the dash cam to watch the house. The car that had driven up yesterday was still there. Kyle hoped the driver would leave so he could identify him. At noon, the front door opened and a man stepped out. Kyle started the car and inched forward, pulling his hat down as far as he could over his face and putting on his sunglasses, even though the sun wasn’t shining. The man looked his way as he entered the car and Kyle recognized him as the one who placed the hood over his head. Bingo, he thought.

  There was no need to stay in the area, so he accelerated away and returned to his hotel. When he got there, he called Alberto and told him he had verified the house and planned to go in tonight to rescue Carmen.

  “Be careful… and good luck,” Alberto said.

  He then called Lorenzo and requested access to Carmen again to administer her medication.

  “You are aware that if I don’t get the money tomorrow as promised, there isn’t any medication that will do her any good.”

  Kyle ignored the comment, asking when he could get a ride to where she is being held.

  “Come at 2:00,” he said. “I’ll have the car waiting outside my offices.”

  “Thanks,” said Kyle as he ended the call.

  Now almost 1:30, Kyle left for the Santini Towers, parked in the underground public parking and made his way to the ground floor. It was less than five minutes before the limo arrived. The same man he spied leaving the house earlier stepped out and beckoned Kyle to get in. After he entered the car, the man sat beside him and said, “You know the drill,” as he pulled out the hood. It was interesting for Kyle now because he already had a visual imprint in his mind of the house. He would carefully note any other details of the place when they removed the hood again.

  He was led into the house, following the same procedure as before. This time though, he made a special point of petting the dog and the animal responded affectionately, licking his hand. He noticed the creak from the un-oiled hinges of the door and tucked that away in his mind, then felt his way down the stairs, counting them in his mind, before someone remove
d the hood. While they were unlocking Carmen’s door, he took in his surroundings before being led in to see her. Happy to see him, she got off of the bed and ran to him, giving him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Buenos Tardos,” she said as she let go of him.

  “Buenos Tardos, ¿Como esta?” Kyle said.

  “Esta muy bien,” she said.

  “Are you ready for your medication?”

  “Si,” she said and sat back down on the bed.

  Kyle unwrapped the medication pack and repeated the procedure for the injection. He reached over and whispered in Spanish. “Be ready tonight. It is cold outside, so dress warmly.”

  A look of glee appeared in her eyes and she gave a slight nod in understanding.

  Kyle gave her a peck on the cheek, then got up to leave, giving her a wink as he went out the door. The hood was placed over his head again and they returned to the Santini Towers, where he retrieved his car and returned to his hotel.

  Kyle laid out all the paraphernalia he had purchased for Carmen's rescue. He was able to obtain a Smith and Wesson revolver from Frederico’s friend, Dale, as well as a stun gun. Kyle did not ask for the revolver, but Dale convinced him to take it, using the expression: ‘Don't bring a knife to a gun fight’. Satisfied that he had everything he needed, he packed them in a carryall and busied himself until it was time to leave, which he had decided will be 1:00 a.m. After a quick supper in a nearby Denny’s, he returned to the hotel and lay down for a nap, setting his iPhone alarm to 10:00 p.m., although he doubted that he would sleep that long.

  He woke up at 9:45, shaking the grogginess from his head, then got up and peered out the window. The snow had been falling for a while now with a significant accumulation, leaving a blanket of white on everything. The flashing lights on ploughs could be seen as they attempted to move the snow from travelled roads and pathways. It was a shitty night weather wise, but that would mean there would be fewer people on the roads–hopefully. Accordingly, he left earlier than planned because travel would be slow-going. He dressed in his Mukluks, put on his parka, grabbed the bag and left the room. He rode the elevator down to the parking level and threw the carryall into the back of the Ford Explorer—he was going to be thankful for the all-wheel drive. He navigated his way around the snow-covered cars after exiting the underground garage, and pulled into the street. It was snowing heavily now, and the wind whisked it around in swirls, sometimes reducing visibility to a few metres. Kyle’s worst fear was being involved in a fender-bender and losing the window of opportunity to rescue Carmen. Tomorrow was the deadline for the next payment to Lorenzo and Alberto had confirmed that he could not make it.

  The wipers became encrusted with snow and Kyle had to stop occasionally and clear them. Other than ploughs, tow-trucks and buses, few vehicles were on the road, making the going easier. He got to the house just before midnight and parked a block from it. He donned the hood on his parka, grabbed the bag from the rear of the SUV, and trundled through the snow to the alleyway behind the house. It was slow-going because snow removal crews had not yet cleared side streets or sidewalks–and likely would not until later. In most cities having to deal with snow removal, they consider residential streets a low priority and all ploughs are used to keep main arteries open. This was good for Kyle because no one was about. Snow swirled around him and he had to make his way through gathering drifts, sometimes coming over the top of his Mukluks, which, thankfully, he had laced tightly around his pants. He estimated that there had been at least 15 cm of accumulation so far, or only half the forecast’s predicted 12". He came to the alleyway and made his way along it until he reached the back of the house. He had to reach up and unclasp the gate, but had to move snow out of the way of the bottom to open it. The snow had accumulated here in drifts and he lumbered through it to the rear door. The door had six sections of window, and he selected the one closest to the lock, reached into his bag for the roll of duct tape and taped the small pane completely. He then withdrew the spring-loaded punch and placed it in the centre of the window and pushed. The punch’s spring wound up and the internal hammer released and punched the window, shattering it. The tape held the pieces of glass in place so it didn’t fall to the floor. However, the dog started barking.

  Crap, thought Kyle as he frantically removed the glass and reached in for the lock and turned it. As he entered, the dog ran up to him and thankfully recognized him and stopped barking, wagging his tail. Kyle stooped down to pet the dog, a Golden Retriever, and was rewarded with a slobbering lick on his face. He realized that he stood in a large kitchen with a centre island.

  “Good boy,” Kyle whispered as he petted him.

  Kyle heard movement from inside the house and he ran to the interior door, his snow-covered boots slipping on the tile floor, and pressed himself against the wall behind it. Footsteps approached, but the damned dog would not leave him alone.

  “Shoo! Shoo!” Kyle whispered, waving his hands, but the dog just stood there wagging his tail.

  “What’s up Willy?” the male voice called before he entered the kitchen, switching on the light. It became obvious that he saw the broken window, mainly because the snow was blowing through it. Kyle reached around the door and shoved the Taser into the man’s neck, causing him to convulse and fall to the floor. Kyle caught him before he actually hit the floor and waited there in silence for any other noises from the house. Willy continued to slobber Kyle’s face with his abundant tongue. Once confident that no one else was coming to investigate, he reached into the pocket of the man’s dressing gown and retrieved a small Beretta 9mm, placing it, along with the Taser, in his pocket. He removed his boots and peered around the door into the dark expanse beyond. The light from the kitchen cast beams down the corridor and Kyle noticed the door to the basement a few metres away. He inched along the wall, peering up the stairs as he did so, until he reached the door and opened it. The door creaked on un-oiled hinges, which made Kyle cringe and stop before advancing. He glanced down the dark stair and chanced switching on the light. It was unlikely that anyone would be down there except Carmen, so he crept down the stairs, keeping his weight to the outside of the steps to alleviate creaking. At the bottom, he recognized the corridor and proceeded to the door where Carmen was being held, unlocked it and entered. Carmen had the light on and ran to embrace him as he stepped into the room.

  “Shhh!” Kyle said, placing his finger on his lips. He saw she was ready, so he grabbed her hand, leading her out of the room. She gave his hand an affectionate squeeze as they made their way to the stairs and ascended them. Kyle held the Beretta in front of him as he reached the landing and pushed the door open, stepping into the front corridor. He heard the click of a gun cocking and the cold feel of a barrel against his head.

  “Drop it,” a voice said.

  Shit!

  Kyle dropped the gun and raised his hands. The man stepped from behind the door, picked up the Beretta and gestured them to go back down the stairs. Carmen went to her room and Kyle followed her.

  “Not you,” the man said, motioning him down the hall. He locked Carmen’s door and pushed Kyle along the corridor to a door at the end.

  “Open it,” the man said.

  Kyle opened the door, and the heat wafted out–he stepped into a boiler room.

  “Sit,” he said.

  Kyle looked around–there were no chairs.

  “Where?” he said.

  “On the damned floor. Over there,” he motioned with the gun to a corner beside the boiler.

  Kyle shucked off his parka, wandered over and sat cross-legged on the floor with his back to the wall. The man rummaged around a nearby bench, coming up with a few plastic ties.

  “Vino?” someone called out.

  “In here Danny,” Vino said.

  Danny came into the room–it was the man Kyle Tasered.

  “Bastard Tasered me,” he said as he took two strides over to Kyle and kicked him in the head. Kyle, seeing
it coming, shifted his head sideways and the man’s foot struck his chin a glancing blow.

  “Ease up Danny,” Vino said. “Want to see what Lorenzo has in store for these two."

  Danny walked over to Kyle and ransacked his pockets, retrieving his gun and the Taser. He shoved the Taser into Kyle's neck and watched as he convulsed on the floor.

  "Take that, you bastard," he said as he prepared to Taser him again.

  "That's enough," said Vino. "Keep your gun on him, I’m going to bind his hands and feet.”

  Vino daisy-chained the ties to make them long enough to go around Kyle’s ankles and wrists. He wrapped Kyle’s arms around a heating pipe and applied the ties.

  “That should hold him,” Vino said. “C’mon, Danny, I don’t want to wake Lorenzo now, so I’ll send him a text for him to get back to us in the morning.”

  The men left the room and Kyle pondered his predicament, his body still numb from the jolt of electricity he received from the Taser. His rescue attempt had failed, and will likely cost both he and Carmen their lives. He tried to move his wrists, but the ties were too tight and the plastic bit into his skin. Blood trickled from his mouth from the kick Danny gave him, but that was the least of his problems. He had no options from where he was now and sat dejectedly, pondering potential outcomes. Would Lorenzo shoot him to accentuate his point and let Carmen live to allow more time to gather the money? Killing Carmen will potentially cost him six million dollars–not a good business decision. Alternately, would he kill Carmen and Kyle and move on? It seemed Kyle was on the menu, no matter what. Anna came to mind and he imagined how upset she would be if she learned of his demise. He wished now he hadn't agreed to such a foolish venture.

  Kyle must have sat for several hours before he dozed off, the heat in the boiler room tiring him. A commotion upstairs startled him awake, then two gunshots rang out.

  Jesus Christ! He thought Carmen.