by Mike Slavin
Case ran through the house and grabbed his keys and a golf hat. He opened the garage door, jumped into his Porsche, and took off without switching on his headlights. Case hoped they were going the speed limit, not expecting anyone to be following them and not wanting the police to stop them for speeding.
The blood on Case’s hands was sticky. He set his Glock and phone on the passenger seat. His Browning was still under the seat if he needed it. Case grabbed a golf towel from the back seat, then used it to wipe the blood off his hands and his phone as best he could.
It didn’t take long to find them. Case slowed to a crawl as their car approached the streetlight where the golf course road intersected with a major six-lane road.
They hit the green light and went straight through, turning to the left. Case punched it, but the light turned red before he got there. The cross-traffic was driving through the intersection, but it was spaced out enough that he might still make the turn. Case went through the red light, never slowing as he slipped between two cars. It was close, but no one honked.
Were they headed for the I-45? It was six miles away.
Case saw them three cars up, maybe a block away. Now, with more traffic on the road, he could turn on his lights and get closer. With three lanes, he could always keep someone between them. They were in an older black car, and he got close enough to jot down the license. Three people were inside, but he couldn’t make out their faces. He was sure Pumpkin Head and Prego were in there.
Is the third guy Tony?
He dropped back. The trouble with driving a shiny silver Porsche was that people noticed it.
After being stopped at a light with two cars between them, Case took a moment to think.
Larry’s dead and it’s my fault. This will kill Sandy. These guys will pay!
They’re going to keep trying to kill me unless I follow them and kill them first. I have no choice. How can I kill them and get away with it? Shit, there are cameras everywhere. What do I do about that? Damn, my phone, too. The cops will be able to track my phone. I hate to throw it out the window.
Shit, I forgot to call 911.
A few blocks away was a gas station that he often bought fuel from. Case knew most of the people who worked there, by sight at least. He’d leave his phone there.
Case dialed 911 and a woman answered. “911, what’s your emergency?”
“There’s been a shooting.” Case gave his address. “Police Lieutenant Larry Marsh was shot through the front door. I think he’s dead and I’m in pursuit of the shooter.” Case hung up. Then his phone rang. He saw it was the 911 operator calling back, but he turned off his phone.
Without missing a beat, Case pulled off the road, screeched to a stop, leaped from his car, and ran into the convenience store.
“I don’t have time to explain,” Case said, handing his phone to the clerk, “but please hold onto my phone until I come back.”
He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, Case ran back to his car. A minute later, he was back on the highway and in sight of the killers’ car.
Case's mind was in high gear as he drove.
Can they find my car with LoJack? I don’t know. Is it self-defense if I follow them after a murder was committed at my house and they tried to kill me?
Maybe, if I can get the drop on them, I can capture them, take them to a remote spot, and kill them with each other's guns. I could stage it to look like they turned on each other. They’re bad guys. The cops probably wouldn't bother looking into it too hard.
Damn, I wish I had zip ties. Or duct tape.
25
The killers didn’t turn onto I-45. They went under it and kept going down the three FM 1960 lanes heading toward Humble.
The dark section of road gave Case more time to think.
So, if I can get them alone, how do I get away? It might be great if I could get a different car, but how? I have only five hundred dollars cash, and I can’t use credit cards. What will the police do when they find Larry at my house dead, and I’m not there? Issue a warrant for my arrest? Put out an APB on me? How much time do I have? Damn, this shit is happening too fast.
He hadn’t done anything wrong yet, although this was rapidly becoming an opportunity to get himself into some deep shit, regardless of how deserving of death they were. Just like in Kill Crime, Case was contemplating taking out some nasty guys. Although in this case, it was very, very personal.
The goons pulled into a gas station two miles outside Humble. Case stopped at a minimart across the way and watched Prego go in to pay the cashier while Pumpkin Head pumped gas. A third guy got out and stretched his legs.
Case had time to walk in and buy all four rolls of duct tape on the shelf. As he was paying, a state trooper pulled into the gas station. He didn’t seem to suspect anything, but he parked on the other side of the car Case was following. The trooper said something to Pumpkin Head, who responded. Probably just “hi.” Nothing happened. After they pulled out, Case followed.
In a few more miles, they got to Humble and turned north on 59 North. They got off a couple of exits later and drove a few miles down the feeder before turning into a dark parking lot with one smaller building placed in the middle. It may have been a used car lot. Case watched as they pulled up beside another car all the way on the northern side, the darkest corner. Trees surrounded the lot, since the area around it wasn’t developed yet. Case was following far enough back that they didn’t see him. He turned off his lights and rolled up to the front side of the lot, still on the shoulder of the feeder road.
Here was his big opportunity.
Case eased past the lot on the feeder. As soon as he passed the north side, he pulled over. The shoulder was so broad, he could maneuver into the trees so no one would notice his car. He was out of sight of the goons.
He was in a controlled rush. This was a combat situation and he had the element of surprise on his side.
Case pushed his key under the passenger seat. If he remote locked the car, it would beep. From the passenger seat, he grabbed his Glock and the bag with the duct tape. He shoved on his hat and tightened his grip on the plastic sack to make sure it made no noise when he ran. Case took off as quickly and quietly as he could on the asphalt along the tree line, planning to run right up to them.
It was a dark and moonless night. Case slowed down as he got closer. He saw the men’s silhouettes and heard them talking. He kept moving forward, never stopping. If they all got in the car and started off, he’d lose his opportunity.
Case was now no more than twenty-five feet from the cars. He half expected someone to hear him and turn around. Both car trunks were open, and the goons were transferring something, probably weapons, from one car to the next. Two of them were talking to each other and smoking, their backs to Case. The third man was bent over the trunk of the car closest to Case, right in front of the others.
Case crept up behind the two smoking men. From the silhouettes, he knew they were Prego and Greg Gibson, aka Pumpkin Head.
“Move and you’re dead!”
Everyone jumped. In a lower voice, Case continued, “I have a Glock with a full magazine, and I’m a combat vet. You won’t be the first people I’ve killed, so no sudden moves. You, by the trunk, hands in the air.” He jabbed the two men right in front of him with the Glock. “Get your hands up.”
“You’re making a big fucking mistake, buddy,” Greg said.
“We’ll see. You, by the car, get over here and line up with these two. Keep your backs to me. Hands as high as you can get them,” Case warned.
“You want money? How much?” Greg asked. “We got a couple of G’s on us, but we could get more.”
Case kept his cap down low and stayed in the shadows. He patted down Greg, Prego, and the mystery man from behind. Greg had a weapon in an ankle holster. Case released the clip and cleared the chamber before throwing it into the trees. He also took all three of their cell phones and threw them on the ground.
“Okay, this is h
ow it’s going to work.” Case threw a roll of duct tape in front of all three of them. “One at a time, you sit down and tape your feet, then your hands. Once you’re all taped, I’ll take whatever I want. Then, since I’m a nice guy, I’ll leave you with a knife at the front of the parking lot, so you can get free when I’m long gone. So, if you give me no trouble, you’ll all be fine.” It should be a good enough lie for everyone to cooperate.
“You dumb fuck. If you were smart, you’d walk away right now,” Greg spat.
“That’s not going to happen,” Case said, “so get busy.”
Prego and the other guy taped themselves up, but Greg refused.
“Fuck you. You’re too big of a pussy to shoot. So, just get your ass out of here and maybe we'll let you live.” Greg took two steps toward Case, who surged forward and struck Greg in the throat. Greg grabbed his throat, made desperate sounds, and fell to his knees. Case yanked his arms and taped his hands like a cowboy roping a calf. Then Case pushed Greg backward and taped his legs together.
Case searched the back of their car. He found a pair of gloves, which he put on, then got busy. Case moved all the weapons to the other car and covered them with the blanket.
“If you play this right, I won’t kill you. Now, get in the trunk.”
Case kept his Glock aimed at them as they hopped to the truck.
“One at a time. You first.” Case pointed at Greg. With some difficulty, he fell into the trunk. Case got all three of them in spooning each other, then taped their mouths.
It was a tight fit.
26
Case drove up to the next corner in the goons’ car. At the back of the dark lot, he’d left the other car they’d used when they killed Larry. The police would be looking for that car, which meant Case had to get away from it as quickly as possible. He assumed no one would be looking for the car he was in, so he wouldn’t worry about cameras. Still, he kept his hat pulled low over his face. He worried about everything he might not have considered.
Case pulled into a gas station and couldn’t believe it still had a payphone. He called Trish. “I need your help,” he said. “Bobby’s too.”
“Did you kill someone?” That was her first question despite the fact that it sounded like she had just woken up.
“No, of course not! How quickly can you get to Humble?” Case asked.
“To Humble? Just a second, let me think.”
“Time is critical. If you could be here now, that would be great.”
“I get it. If I can get hold of Bobby, maybe forty-five minutes,” she said. “Is there anything I should know?”
“No, just get here. I don’t have a phone, but I’ll be watching for you. Oh, and don’t bring your regular cell phones. They can be tracked.”
“What the hell’s going on?” she asked.
“No time to explain. My car is on the side of the 59 going north, but off the road, a few exits north of 59 and 1960. It’s dark, so you'll have to look close. Bobby needs to ride with you, so you guys have just one car. No guns necessary.”
Case drove back to the dark lot. He turned around the car so it was facing the highway. He waited. Damn! He’d forgotten to pick up their phones. He got out of the car and ran over to the stolen car. He searched around on the ground, found the phones, and felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Case returned to the car with the goons in the trunk. He sat in it and stripped the batteries out of the phones. He’d throw them away at the first gas station he saw after he left.
After forty-five minutes, Case walked to the edge of the parking lot and waited. A few minutes later, a slow-moving car approached. That had to be Trish and Bobby. Case stepped out on the edge of the street and waved his arms. They must have seen him. The car sped up and pulled into the dark parking lot. Trish turned off the car’s lights as Case walked up to it.
“Stay in the car,” he said as he climbed in. “Drive to the back of the lot. But don’t turn your lights on. There are two cars back there.”
“Okay, so what’s all the mystery?” Trish asked. Bobby listened quietly.
“If I don’t tell you anything else, then you’re just helping a friend, as odd as it seems. Have you seen the news or heard anything unusual tonight that could be close to home?”
“I’m drawing a blank,” Trish said.
“No,” Bobby said. “What are we doing here?”
“Bobby, I want you to move that car. Keep in mind the license plate may have been seen by street cameras over the last two or three hours. The police will be looking for it soon, but maybe not yet. I want you to drive it to Beaumont, but don’t get pulled over. New license plates might help you buy the time you need. Take a bus back to Houston. Keep your face covered as much as possible. Avoid traffic cams and any other cameras. If that’s too much, then just park it somewhere north of Houston and get back to Houston.”
“How serious is this?” Bobby asked.
“No questions. Just move the car for me and be careful.”
“How much is this paying?”
“Name a price,” Case said.
“Five thousand,” Bobby said.
“Sure. Trish, you’re a witness if something happens to me. Just tell Sam at my office. He’ll get you paid,” Case said.
“What’s going to happen?” Trish asked.
“Nothing,” Case said. “Trish, I need my car moved. Can you drive it to the Walmart by my house? The keys are under the passenger’s seat. Then walk a few blocks away and take a cab back to your car here, pick it up, and go home.”
“What about you?” Trish asked.
“The less you know, the better,” Case said.
Trish drove toward the front of the lot and got out. Case drove up beside her in Greg’s car. He waited until she got in and drove off in his car before checking the trunk to see how the three bad guys were doing. They were still alive and making unintelligible bitching noises. They looked angry and uncomfortable.
Case couldn’t care less. He didn’t like the idea of killing them, but they’d just murdered his best friend, and they’d probably keep trying to kill him. He didn’t think he really had any other choice. Tell the cops? Go to trial? And try to avoid them killing him before the trial or maybe even after if they got convicted? He was pretty sure he’d also have to kill Tony Testa, their boss, before he could put all this behind him.
Of course, he still had to kill whoever had murdered his wife and son if he didn’t have enough evidence for the police.
Odd that he’d never wanted to hurt anyone—let alone commit murder—once he’d gotten out of the Army. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to kill since he was a civilian. But now he had plans to kill possibly five or six more people.
But they all deserve to die.
As he slammed the trunk shut, Case thought he should have finished reading Kill Crime. Maybe he could have gotten a few more pointers.
27
Central Texas Countryside
The back roads of Texas were familiar to Case. Many oil and gas well drilling locations and fields were in the middle of nowhere. When you went miles back into the scrub brush and cattle fields, the dirt roads were impassable, especially after a big rain. As he drove, Case kept his eyes out for a bicycle he could use to ride back out of the field after taking care of the goons. He glimpsed one in a yard as he drove through a small town where the houses lined the highway. There was only one stoplight. Case jumped out and threw the bike in the back seat. At two in the morning, no one was there to see him.
He came to the turnoff going back to the old quarry. Where he was headed, there would be no houses for miles. It was a location his company had scouted to drill, but had never gotten the lease on. The owner had too much money and wanted ridiculous terms.
There was a lake in an old rock quarry. Instead of shooting the goons, Case could drive their car into the lake. The water should destroy most of the forensic evidence. But how long would it be before someone found the car—a few days or a few years? And wh
en they did find it, would it point back to him? This wasn’t the car the goons had driven in to kill Larry. Plus, Larry had been killed with a shotgun. Case didn’t think the police could get a forensic match on a shotgun.
They couldn’t prove he’d had any involvement.
He could taste the dust and smell the cow patties he drove through. He might hit a cow if he wasn’t careful. His car kicked up a plume of dust, but that couldn’t be helped. He doubted anyone would see it in the darkness, especially with no moon out. It was trick driving in the dark with no brightly lit rig as a guide. The partly graded road was bumpy and filled with potholes.
It must have been horrible riding in the trunk. They might even die from suffocation if the dust got too thick. Was that even possible? He didn’t care.
Case was still trying to decide how to kill them when he drove to the edge of the cliff overlooking the rock quarry. He got out of the car with his things and walked back to the trunk.
“You still alive?” he yelled.
“Fuck you,” Greg said, his voice muted through the closed trunk. His duct tape must have worked its way loose.
“You just killed my best friend and you were trying to kill me. Any reason I shouldn’t kill you guys?” Case asked. “Oh, by the way, the car is in a cow pasture in the middle of nowhere, on a cliff overlooking an old rock quarry. About two hundred feet down is a lake at the bottom of the cliff. I was going to shoot you first, but why waste the bullets? I’m going to put the car in drive. Either you’ll drown or, if you’re lucky, the fall will kill you first.”
They started yelling and pleading with Case. Since their hands were duct-taped in the front, they must have removed the duct tape on their mouths. Case couldn’t understand them, as they all talked at the same time. One of the voices screamed, “DEA! DEA! DEA!”