He stayed where he was, crouched down just outside the kitchen, listening. The sound of the kitchen intruder hitting the floor must have alerted one of his cronies to the activity above, because Ingo heard someone racing up the basement steps two at a time. He hustled toward the door that led to the basement, but it flew open before he could take position on the far side. Raul burst out of the basement and spotted Ingo as he rushed toward him. They both brought their pistols around, but each of them managed to grab the other’s wrist with their free hand. Raul was younger, bigger, and stronger than Ingo, and he was able to easily keep Ingo’s gun hand at bay. Ingo, however, struggled to control Raul, and the muzzle of his gun moved slowly, but steadily toward Ingo’s head.
It didn’t take long for Ingo to realize he was in trouble. The younger, stronger Raul had the upper hand and, if he didn’t act fast, he’d be dead. Raul was forcing his gun hand closer and closer to Ingo’s head. It was only a matter of seconds before he took a bullet to the brain. There was no point in resisting, Raul was simply too strong. Ingo did the only thing he could think of. He ducked down and jumped off the floor, putting all of his weight in Raul’s hand. He was strong, but he wasn’t that strong. His grip broke, and Ingo fell free.
Before Raul could steady himself, Ingo raised his gun, about to fire at Raul’s midsection, but the younger adversary recovered quickly. He brought his boot around and kicked the gun away before Ingo could shoot. The gun tumbled free and Raul smiled. He had the upper hand, and he knew it. He stood over Ingo and arced his gun down toward his head. Ingo, down on one knee, grabbed Raul’s wrist with both hands, locked his elbows and pressed up, pushing the gun away. He held the gun at bay, but he couldn’t keep this up for long. Raul was simply too strong, and trying to outmuscle him was a losing proposition.
Raul launched a front kick, but Ingo twisted out of the way before it could connect. With one hand, Ingo quickly grabbed at his belt, yanked a small knife from the buckle, and slashed at the inside of Raul’s thigh. The knife cut through pants and flesh, and Raul screamed as blood sprayed out from his leg. Ingo had hit his target. The femoral artery was the leg’s main blood supply and, if cut, would lead to total blood loss in a matter of minutes. Raul clutched at his leg, and Ingo didn’t hesitate. He brought up a vicious fist into Raul’s groin, which knocked him to the ground. Raul writhed in pain as Ingo kicked his gun away, and bent down to pick up his own.
He stood over Raul as blood pumped out of his leg, painting the floor red. Ingo stared down at him, deciding whether to let him bleed out or put him out of his misery.
“It won’t matter,” Raul sputtered between pained breaths. “She’ll kill him. She’ll kill his family. And then she’ll come for you.”
“We’ll see,” Ingo replied, before putting a bullet through his eye.
Chapter 100
I panicked. Ingo was my only backup. We didn’t know if Christina would come alone or not, but we counted on her flying solo. She took pleasure in tying up loose ends herself. That much, we got right. But we hadn’t anticipated her gaining the upper hand on me so quickly and easily. At least I hadn’t.
It was about now that I imagined Ingo would come barreling in, put one in Christina’s head, and end this once and for all. Somehow, she had been expecting him. What did she know? And what had she done?
He’s not coming. The words echoed in my head and my heart sunk. If she had somehow managed to keep Ingo from getting here, that could only mean one thing. He was dead and I was next.
“Don’t look so depressed, Simon. Did you really expect this to end any other way?”
I sank deeper into the soft cushions of the easy chair. It was over. Ingo wasn’t coming. There was no one left to save me.
“Last time, Simon. Where’s James?”
“I don’t know, I swear. He lied to me. If I knew where he was, I would tell you.”
“Would you?” she asked, inching closer, the gun still aimed at my face.
“I would, yes, but I have no idea where he is. And I don’t care if I ever see him again.”
“Well that’s good news,” she said. “Because you won’t be seeing him, or anyone else, ever again.”
I stared at her, terrified, waiting for the shots to come. I always knew I would die at her hands. Ever since the day I’d heard the name Christina Escalante. She was the head of a criminal family and an accomplished killer. I was an optometrist who’d been in way over his head for far too long.
“I really liked you, Simon. I did. I want you to know that. So this brings me no pleasure.”
“Maybe we can work something out,” I said out of desperation.
“I’m afraid that time has come and gone. You have nothing left to offer me. You don’t know where James is and, even if you did, I’d kill you as soon as you told me.”
I nodded gently as she confirmed what I already knew.
“I guess I should thank you for killing Enrique and Gustavo for me though,” she said with a smile. “I’d say our plan worked perfectly.”
I didn’t want to mention the part where she was supposed to be in the coffin, waiting to strike. No sense reminding her I tried to double-cross her.
“I didn’t kill them,” I said.
“Who then? Your South African friend?”
I shook my head. “No. Luis,” I said flatly.
Clearly surprised, she lowered her gun slightly. “Luis killed them? He killed his own family?”
“He did, but it didn’t come easily for him. He was angry and upset by it, but he did it to protect you and Carlos.”
I could have sworn a tear formed in her eye, but she’d never let me see it fall.
“How did he die?” she asked.
“He went down fighting. The Miami SWAT team took him out.”
“Those motherfuckers,” she hissed. “I don’t pay them enough money?!”
Her anger suddenly renewed, she was ready to shoot someone and I was the only one around. She inched closer, tightened her grip on the pistol, and said, “Goodbye, Simon.”
I squeezed my eyes closed and cringed in anticipation.
The shot rang out, echoing off the walls of the house. I jerked back against the easy chair and waited for the pain to come. I opened my eyes and looked down, but I didn’t see any blood. Did she miss? I turned my eyes up and saw Christina standing there, eyes wide, her pistol hanging loosely in her hand. What was happening?
She coughed and blood began to spread across her lace blouse. She looked past me, over my left shoulder, and coughed again. Blood appeared at the corner of her mouth and she swayed unsteadily on her feet before her knees buckled and she collapsed. She fell hard and landed with her head just inches from my feet. She stared up at the ceiling as blood ran down her arm and spilled out onto the area rug beneath her. I listened to her gasp for breath and watched her pupils dilate as the life ran out of her.
When she stopped breathing, I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see Ingo standing there. Somehow he’d made it just in time to save my life, again. He’d be standing there looking smug, with his pistol up, smoke still emanating from the barrel.
But it wasn’t Ingo standing there with a raised pistol.
It was Sara.
Chapter 101
Sara had taken a handful of shooting lessons a while back and had proven to be quite adept. But never, in a million years, did I imagine she would ever actually use a gun. And certainly not to take a life in order to save mine. But that’s what she’d just done.
I rose from the easy chair and faced her. She was ashen white and had started shaking. The gun rattled in her hands and it looked, for a moment, as if she might pass out. I took a wide arc as I approached her. I sidled up to her and carefully took the gun from her. She was shaking all over now, a feeling I was all too familiar with. I decocked the gun, ejected the magazine, and cleared the chamber. When the gun was
empty, I tossed it onto the couch, and took Sara in my arms. She clung to me, and I wasn’t about to let go. She shivered and shook, and, as the numbness faded, she started sobbing. I held her tight and whispered in her ear, “Shhh... It’s over.”
I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I replayed the scene over and over in my mind. Christina standing over me, her gun pointed at me, seconds from death, and Sara appears from nowhere to save me. My head was spinning. How did she get here? Where did she get a gun? Where did she find the courage to pull the trigger? These were all questions that would eventually be answered, but now was not the time. Right now, she needed me.
I squeezed her and whispered, “It’s gonna be okay.”
She responded by turning away from me and puking all over the floor.
I walked her over to the kitchen table and helped her into a chair. When she was settled, I brought her a cold glass of water. Her hands were still shaking and her legs trembled under the table.
“Just breathe,” I said. “It’ll pass. It’s just the adrenaline. You’ll feel better in a little while.”
She nodded and made a strange guttural sound that I took as acknowledgement. She took a few sips of the cold water and, slowly, the color started returning to her face. I sat next to her and held her hand. I still couldn’t believe she came back for me. She literally saved my life. My heart swelled as I looked at her.
I leaned in and put my forehead against her temple. “You saved me,” I whispered.
She smiled softly and nodded.
“I’m never going to live this down, am I?” I asked.
Her smile broadened and she shook her head. I laughed. We sat there quietly for several minutes, holding hands, close together. As she calmed down, her breathing started to normalize and the shaking lessened. I wanted to ask her why she came back, when I heard a car screech to halt outside. Whoever it was, they were in a hurry and they were making no secret of it. I jumped up in a panic, ran over to where Christina lay dead, and grabbed the pistol she’d dropped. I gripped it tightly and aimed it at where the front door used to be.
Will this ever end?
I readied myself for whatever came through the doorway, but it was not what I expected. Ingo came running in and stopped just inside the house. He was breathing hard and covered in blood. I couldn’t tell if it was his or someone else’s. He looked around and took in the scene. His eyes darted from Sara to Christina to me, and I lowered my gun.
“Am I late?” he joked, and let out an awkward laugh.
I tossed the gun onto the easy chair and hugged him hard. “I thought you were dead,” I said.
“Right back atcha, mate,” he replied, and we both laughed.
We let go, he squeezed my shoulder, and then walked over to where Sara sat. He put a hand on her arm and leaned down by her side. “How’d we do, ace?” he asked.
She just nodded, still collecting herself and probably now coming to grips with what she’d done.
“Wait,” I said. “You knew about this?”
He straightened up and looked at me with a smile. “Where do you think she got the gun?”
I just stared at him.
“Did you really think we could take on Christina Escalante without having a backup plan?” he asked.
“And she was the backup plan?!”
He folded his arms and nodded. “Yup. She was highly motivated and can shoot straight.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, looking back and forth between them.
“Because I knew there was no way you’d go for it,” he said.
“You’re right,” I said, feeling myself getting angry. “She could have been killed!”
“But she wasn’t, mate. Okay? Look,” he said, gesturing to her. “She’s okay, you’re okay, we’re all okay.”
I knew he was right, but I still didn’t like the fact that Sara had put herself at risk, and Ingo allowed it. Knowing Sara, she probably went to Ingo and insisted on helping, and refused to take no for an answer. He probably told her the details of the plan, gave her a gun, and instructed her not to use it unless absolutely necessary. Even if that’s not how it happened, that’s what she would say, and he would go along with it.
I shook it off. Like Ingo said, it didn’t matter. I returned to my seat next to her at the table and took her hand. “You doing okay?” I asked.
She nodded. “I’m getting there.” They were the first words she’d spoken, and they were music to my ears. She sounded like she was going to be okay. She was always tougher than me anyway.
I squeezed her hand and gave her a wink. “Good.”
Ingo walked to the fridge, grabbed a cold beer, and looked over his shoulder at us. “Anyone else?” he asked, holding it up. We both shook our heads. “Suit yourself,” he said. He closed the fridge and took a seat across from us at the table. He twisted the top off and took a long pull.
“So what happened to you?” I asked, motioning to his blood soaked clothes.
“I had a visit from Christina’s pal, Raul, and a few of his buddies.”
“A few?” I exclaimed. “How the hell did you get out of there?”
“Well,” he began...
Ingo recounted the events from his house, and I listened wide-eyed.
“That’s unbelievable,” I said, gawking at him.
“I got lucky,” Ingo replied.
I scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
He shrugged and took another sip from his beer.
We sat there for the next few minutes, in silence, just breathing and looking at each other. We did it. It was finally over.
“Now what do we do?” Sara asked.
Chapter 102
I put in another call to Agent Lesco at the FBI and convinced him to return to the house. When he arrived, he took in the whole scene, and it was clear by the look on his face, he was thoroughly confused. I told him the whole story. He was not happy with me.
“You used me,” he said. “You used the FBI, and you put my men at risk. All so we could play a part in your twisted game?”
“Yes,” I said. “And I’m sorry, but I did what I had to do to protect my family.”
“And who is this?” he asked, looking at Ingo and his bloody clothes.
“A friend. Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t like this. You’re—”
I held up a hand and cut him off before he could finish. “Let’s not take our eye off the big picture, shall we? You don’t have to like the way we handled this, but nothing that’s happened here changes the fact that Stamper was dirty, we exposed him, and you got a big promotion from it. Special Agent in Charge Felix Lesco,” I said, smiling.
He smiled back and said, “It does have a nice ring to it.”
“And look,” I added, motioning to where Christina lay. “You took down Christina Escalante, the head of the largest Cuban crime family in the country. That’s a pretty impressive feat one week into your new job. It’s going to look great on your record.”
He looked at me sideways for a moment, not understanding my meaning. Then it clicked, and his expression changed. I expected him to smile, but he did not. “I’m not comfortable with that. I appreciate you giving me information on a dirty agent, but I will not take credit for a shooting I did not commit, no matter how good it might look on my record!” His voice got louder as he spoke and it was clear he was serious.
Shit. I was counting on him going along with our story. But clearly he was cut from a different cloth than Agent Stamper.
We stood there in silence for a very long minute. Agent Lesco surveyed the scene with his hand on his chin, before saying, “Here’s what I see. You were surprised by an intruder. She had a weapon and was intent on using it. You fought back, defended yourself, and the suspect was shot and killed. Right?”
He looked at me and I nodded. All
of that was true. It left out certain details, but the gist of it was accurate.
“Good,” he said. “That’s what’s going in my report. It was self-defense.” He pulled his phone from the clip on his belt and walked outside. In less than twenty minutes, there were a dozen agents and three representatives from the coroner’s office milling about in my house. We answered all of their questions, making sure everything we said corroborated Agent Lesco’s simplified version of what happened.
Two hours later, they were gone.
Ingo and I took up the task of cleaning up downstairs. I refused to let Sara help, insisting she go upstairs, take a hot shower, and get in bed. We cleaned up vomit and blood and broken glass. We picked up bullet casings and door locks and threw away blood-stained carpets and cushions. We even hung a large piece of plywood where the front door used to be. When we were done, Ingo said, “You owe me big.”
“In more ways than one,” I agreed.
“True,” he said. “But that’s not what I meant. Make sure you get your ass over to my house tomorrow. There’s a big mess over there.” He said it with a smile and I knew he was kidding. With one phone call, he’d have a crew over there to clean up the mess and dispose of the bodies. I didn’t ask for specifics, because I didn’t want to know.
We hugged again and I thanked him profusely. As we embraced, I broke down. I’d been fighting back so many emotions for so long, they were bound to come out eventually. I sobbed on his shoulder, but he didn’t say anything. He just supported me, like he always did.
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