by David Carter
Ciggy handed him his pack of cigarettes along with a lighter. Ryan tossed the cigarettes aside on the bench top and reached for the photo of Samuel Bowman from inside of his jacket pocket, and said to Blaze, “Tell Zoe to put that blowtorch down, or I’ll destroy this one and only picture of your father from existence, and on top of that, I’ll make sure you’re put away for life for the Bowmans’ murders.” He ignited the lighter below the bottom corner of the photo as he held it up high for everyone to see.
Blaze couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“You heard me. I tracked down a photograph of Samuel Bowman as a graduate student. And now you have exactly three seconds to choose whether you want to see it or not. One—two —”
“Fuck! All right!” Blaze cursed. He signalled for Zoe to turn the blowtorch off.
Sandra decided it was safe to come inside. She demanded that Spider cut Charlotte down immediately. He didn’t move an inch. She wrenched the bolt cutters free from his grasp and did it herself, then picked up Charlotte’s detached thumb, before helping her outside to Ryan’s car.
“I’m taking her to the hospital; I’ll be waiting for you outside,” she said to Ryan as she stood in the doorway. Then she looked at Blaze with ferocity in her eyes. “You should be ashamed of yourself; you’re a fucking brute!”
“She’s right,” Ryan agreed with her, “I’m honestly struggling to want to help you after seeing that.”
“She didn’t have half a dozen operatives lying in ambush and shooting at her while being unarmed last night,” Blaze defended himself, and quickly explained what had happened at the warehouse the night before.
“That still doesn’t give you the right to do what you did,” said Ryan. “She was only doing her job.”
“Then you might as well turn around and leave. It appears this partnership, or whatever it is you want to call it between us, is over.”
“Just like that?”
“I think it’s for the best.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” said Ryan. “Right now, I’m the only friend you’ve got.”
Blaze shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. I have everything I need right here,” and he motioned to the members of the SAS.
Ryan handed Blaze the photograph of Samuel Bowman. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he said, and scurried outside to the Mitsubishi where Sandra was waiting. He got in the car, and floored it out of the driveway, and never looked back.
His alliance with Blaze was over.
Chapter 59
Cindy Lu moaned with pleasure as she rode Vino the way she knew he liked it. He lay back as the Asian beauty made him feel like the rough, tough man he once was. Then just as Vino climaxed, his cell phone vibrated on the bedside table. It was Mr Lombardi. He was calling a meeting with his captains.
Vino left the brothel immediately, and hastily drove to Mr Lombardi’s mansion. He waited patiently at the security gates as they opened to let him in, then cruised up the driveway before heading inside.
Mr Lombardi greeted him in the foyer with a grim look on his face. “Is everything all right, Uncle?” Vino asked him.
Two of Mr Lombardi’s sons stood behind him, towering over their pint-sized, yet all-power father, with their arms folded, and each wore a menacing stare.
“What is this?” asked Vino, confused over the bizarre welcome.
Mr Lombardi’s sons stepped forward, overpowering Vino with their bullish strength, dragging him down the hallway to the door at the top of the stairs to the basement. Vino resisted, kicking and shouting; Mr Lombardi casually lit a cigar and followed them.
Mr Lombardi’s sons thrust Vino down on a stool in the middle of the basement floor, with his arms stretched wide open, and placed the palms of his hands flat on the surface of two small wooden tables, one either side of him. Vino struggled, but gave up the fight when he saw the hulking frame of Tyrone Sanchez emerge from the shadows, wielding a claw hammer. Without so much as a second to react, Sanchez placed a sizeable nail on top of one of Vino’s restrained hands and mercilessly drove it through his flesh and into the table beneath. Then he repeated the same action with his other hand.
Vino convulsed and cried out as the pain rippled up through his arms. He couldn’t move. He was literally pinned down.
“It seems you are no longer of any use to me, Vino,” Mr Lombardi said while he calmly puffed on his cigar, ignoring Vino’s screams. “I feel it’s time I finally put you out of your misery.”
“What have I done to dishonour you, Uncle?” Vino cried out.
Mr Lombardi took a seat in his old, comfortable rocking chair, directly beneath one of three dim light bulbs that dangled from the ceiling. He took his time to answer, savouring the strong flavour of cigar smoke in his mouth. “It was you who helped the detectives escape from Tyrone’s cabin, was it not?” he eventually replied.
Vino was hunched over, wailing as he tried in vain to tug his hands free. “No, Uncle, I swear; I had nothing to do with that. I am loyal to my family; please!”
“Silence!” Mr Lombardi raised his voice, then regained his composure. “Tyrone discovered the body of his guard that you left bleeding out on the pier. He had written your name with his own blood on the wooden boards where you left him to die. There can be no mistaking your guilt!”
Vino’s started trembling. He couldn’t withstand the incredible trauma he was experiencing. He tried to answer, but his mouth only offered despair and silence.
“Why can you not die with dignity, my dear nephew?” said Mr Lombardi. “So you did wrong, yes? Tell your uncle the truth so you can go to your grave with a clear conscience.”
Vino courageously said, “I’m sorry, Uncle. It is as you say; I did wrong and disrespected you and Mr Sanchez. Please forgive me.”
Vino wailed as Mr Lombardi stood from his chair, then slapped Vino across the face. “You blathering fool! You took the life of one of Tyrone’s men! So he will have his retribution and take yours!” Vino gritted his teeth, subduing his agony as Mr Lombardi stubbed his cigar out on his forehead. The hot ash burned deep; the smell of seared flesh filled the room. Mr Lombardi tossed his cigar on the floor and lazily waved his hand at Sanchez as he said, “Do it quickly,” before turning around without so much as a goodbye. He staggered up the stairs with the aid of his sons.
Sanchez leaned forward as he cruelly ran the blade of his brand new filleting knife down the side of Vino’s face. He sadistically chuckled, then said, “let’s have a little fun shall we?”
Mr Lombardi shed a mournful tear as he listened to Vino’s bloodcurdling screams from the top of the stairwell. I'm sorry, Vino, he thought, and closed the door behind him.
Chapter 60
“I can’t thank you both enough for rescuing my daughter,” the commissioner said to Ryan and Sandra the next morning. They were sitting in his office on the top floor of Brighton’s police headquarters. “What those brutes were going to do to her is quite disturbing.”
“And what are you going to do with the Blaze and the MC now that she’s safe?” Ryan asked.
“What do you think I’m going to do? I’m going to crush them like the vermin they are!” He paused, then said, “But I do have a slight problem that requires your immediate attention.”
“And that is?” Sandra asked.
“I received an email this morning from an anonymous address—of which the contents are, shall I say, of a delicate nature.”
“Go on,” said Ryan.
The commissioner briefly explained about the shooting in Brighton City Square.
Ryan and Sandra were both perplexed. “You mean you shot one of your own operatives?” Ryan asked.
“Yes. But we were double-crossed,” he emphasised. “Bobby Blaise is the one at fault. He swapped clothes with the operative before pretending to be a hostage. He must have known I’d send in a team of sharp shooters, and planned the whole thing. I must admit, he is quite the smart
cookie.”
“But who ordered the shot?” Ryan asked tersely.
The commissioner didn’t answer. He just looked down at his desk top.
“You gave the order, didn’t you?” Ryan accused him.
“I’m afraid I did,” he admitted. “And the email I received this morning has the whole event on video, too.”
“You mean you could see the shooting? Even in the dark?”
“Unfortunately, the middle of the square is lit up at night. The footage clearly shows a man dressed in a biker’s outfit surrendering before being shot dead.”
“I think you mean executed,” Ryan corrected him.
The commissioner offered him no reply.
“Why are you telling us this,” said Sandra.
“Because I want you to trace the email, find out who sent it, and remove the video from existence—using whatever means necessary.”
“No,” said Ryan sternly. “We have enough on our plates as it is. we’re still trying to solve two, multiple homicides. Get one of your tech-gurus to trace it.”
“I’ve already tried. They can’t seem to locate the source.”
“So what makes you think we can do it?”
The commissioner stared long and hard at Ryan. “I think you know what I’m asking,” he said.
Ryan clicked after a few moments. “No. I can’t go back to the clubhouse,” he said. “Blaze made it perfectly clear that I’m not welcome anymore.”
“Then you need to mend fences with him.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Do you want to save your career or not?” the commissioner threatened him. “I can still have you locked up for aiding and abetting an escaped prisoner. Don’t think for a moment that I’ve forgotten, detective,” he smirked, thinking he had made him look weak in front of Sandra.
Ryan stood up angrily and leaned across the desk, grabbing the commissioner by the scruff of the neck. He pulled him in close, and shouted, “Then put your bloody money where your mouth is! I’m sick of your bullshit threats! You call yourself a man of the law! You’re nothing more than a power hungry bean counter! Without me on this case, you’d have nothing!” He roughly shoved the commissioner back down in his chair.
Sandra blushed with pride. Then she added, “And just so you know, Commissioner, if you even think about ruining the career of one of the finest detectives I’d ever had the pleasure of working alongside, I’ll be going straight to the press with a report of how you run this department. How do you think it’s going to look when the New Zealand Police Commissioner is on trial for blackmailing one of the most successful detectives in the country? And then I’m calling Blaze as a witness to testify against you, as I’m sure he would love to explain the events of the video in that email. What do you say? We’ll stay quiet about the shooting, and you keep your wrinkled, old trap shut about Ryan?” She raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that reeked with attitude.
The commissioner backed off straight away. “All right, all right,” he conceded. “You’ve made your point.” He looked at Ryan. “You have my word that your career will not be put in any kind of jeopardy. You are exactly as Detective Gibson described; one of the finest and brightest in your field. You are a real credit to the force.”
“Then why all the smoke and mirrors?” Ryan asked.
The commissioner put his head in his hands. Tears trickled down his cheeks. “Because I needed you on this case. Look what they did to my daughter, and all my men down in Worthington!” he said. “And don’t forget about the nine Jane Does. It’s all connected to the Lombardi family and Blaze’s club. They have been free to do what they want, to whom they want, and I feel powerless to do anything about it. I want this city cleaned up before I retire! And that starts with Blaze and the SAS!”
Sandra understood his anguish. “We will deal with Blaze as soon as the right time presents itself. For now, I think they are just warning you to leave them be. You have your daughter back, and the video they have of the shooting gives them leverage over you, preventing any retaliation on your part. So in the meantime, why don’t we tackle the bigger issue; the Lombardi family and Seth Archer? Because now that your daughter’s been made, and Detective Ryan is officially on the outer with the MC, we have no informants as to the movements of all inward bound shipments coming through Smuggler’s Point.”
The commissioner wiped his eyes. “Then we need to shut them down,” he said sternly. “I’ll send an army if I have too.”
Ryan and Sandra agreed that that might be their best play.
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was the commissioner’s secretary. “I have a delivery for Agents Ryan and Gibson,” she said.
Ryan accepted the package. It was a large box. He ripped open the top flaps. Inside was a black, sealed plastic bag, filled with something heavy. “What on earth is this?” he muttered.
He tore a large hole in the top of the bag and looked inside, then sharply turned his head away, gagging profusely as the sight and smell from the package invaded his senses.
There was a note left with the mass of bloody, human skin, that read:
Vino has paid your debt.
Get out of Brighton,
and never set foot on my docks again.
T. Sanchez.
Chapter 61
“I’ve got to nip out for a while,” Ellie said to Danny. He was lying on the couch inside the clubhouse. The rest of the SAS were having a quiet drink and a game of pool with the stereo system blasting in the background.
“Where are you going?” Danny replied.
“I have to go drop off my door key and pick up my final pay cheque from The Underground.”
He clutched her hand. “Hurry back; It’s nice having my own personal nurse.” He winked at her.
She bent down and kissed him on the lips. Her long hair delicately brushed against his chest. The smell of her sweet perfume aroused him. “Perhaps I’ll give you a sponge bath when I return,” she said seductively.
How did I get so lucky? Danny thought.
Half an hour later, Ellie let herself in through the main entrance to The Underground. The place was empty; none of the bar staff had arrived for work yet. She climbed the stairs and walked along the mezzanine floor, before knocking on Archer’s office door. But he wasn’t there. She noticed that Archer’s security staff weren’t standing on guard outside his door as usual either. That’s odd, she thought. I wonder where they could be?
She walked back along the mezzanine floor and opened the door that led down the stairs to the rear entrance. She heard voices drifting up the stairwell. She lightly stepped down the first flight of stairs and came to a sudden halt as she neared the corner to the second flight. She peeked around the wall, and what she saw in the corridor below filled her with terror. Three large men in lavish suits were leading a group of young girls up from the basement and out the back door. The girls were bound and gagged. They were now the property of the men heading out to their expensive cars waiting in the alleyway.
Ellie watched Archer lock the door to the basement and drop his master key in his suit pants pocket. She hastily returned up the stairs to the mezzanine floor and waited outside his office. Francois was first to appear from the stairwell; Archer was directly behind him. “Ellie! What a pleasant surprise!” Archer said with a smile. “I assume you are here for your final pay cheque?”
She hesitated; her heart told her she had to do something.
“Well, actually...I think I may have been a little too hasty in quitting my job. I was wondering if you had filled my position yet?”
“Would you like to return to The Underground?”
“Yes, very much so.”
He paused, then said, “You do remember what is required of all new employees, don’t you?” A devilish grin spread across his face.
“I am aware, yes.” She feigned a smile.
Archer dismissed Francois. “Go pour yourself a drink at the bar,” he ordered him, then said t
o Ellie, “Right this way, my dear,” and ushered her into his office.
Archer locked the door behind them. “I am so glad you’ve reconsidered and come back to me,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”
Ellie stood directly in front of Archer and put her arms around him. She kissed his neck, slowly and tenderly, lightly caressing his pale skin with her moist tongue. Archer went weak in the knees. Ellie slowly walked him by the hand to his desk. She thrust him down in his chair, and slowly undid his belt buckle. Her hands worked his pants down to his ankles.
“Oh, Ellie,” Archer moaned as she took him in her mouth, slowly moving her head up and down his erect shaft. Archer closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, fully aroused and relaxed, enjoying the pleasure of her tongue enveloping his manhood.
Ellie kept him distracted as she discreetly slipped her hand into the pocket of Archer’s suit pants. Her delicate, long fingers pulled out his master key. She continued to work her magic on Archer as she tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans.
Moments later, Archer bucked wildly as he climaxed. He pulled up his pants and clipped his belt buckle together, and said, “Thank you, my dear Ellie. You may consider yourself re-hired. You may start this evening if that suits?”
She wiped her mouth with a tissue from Archer’s desk, and replied, “Sure, no problem. Thank you.”
She left Archer’s office disgusted with herself. But she knew in her heart she had good reason for putting herself through Archer’s ‘initiation’.
She looked over the balcony and saw Francois still drinking at the bar on the ground floor, and high tailed it down the stairs to the door in the corridor. She pulled the master key from her jeans and unlocked it. She quickly checked the stairs behind her.
All clear.
She rushed down the stairs to the basement; her heart exploded with when she saw what was inside.
She saw a young, helpless Chinese girl locked in a cage, alone; the final piece of merchandise from the shipment Blaze had delivered. The girl stared at Ellie, reaching her arms out through the bars, pleading for help. Ellie frantically tried the master key in the padlock. Much to her relief, it opened.