When they were gone, he sat at his desk staring straight ahead. Trying to control the fury raging within. He wasn’t sure who had penetrated his defenses and taken out his security team. He suspected it was Marshall.
He had eight men patrolling the grounds now. But Marshall, or whoever it was, moved like a ghost. Rossi thought he could have twenty men around him and he still wouldn’t be safe. Without thinking about it, his hand reached out to caress the weapon lying on his desk.
It was a hard decision to make. But until he had worked out a new plan and put it into motion, he had no choice but to heed the warning. Reaching for another burner, he dialed a number. He gave new orders to the man who answered.
The man who answered the phone and got the new orders was younger than most of Rossi’s soldiers. And one of the meanest. At birth he was given the name Gaetano. He hated it. It sounded too old country. Other kids made fun of it. When he was old enough to get away with it, he began calling himself Guy.
He thought the new name would help him fit in with others. It didn’t. He wasn’t like others. He was one of those people who enjoyed the suffering of others. Marshall had called it by the German word. Schadenfreude. Guy’s own people would have called him “sadico.” The English word was more direct. Sadist.
He might have become a serial killer had he not met some of Rossi’s security team. They introduced him to their boss. Something about him interested Rossi. He couldn’t put his finger on it. He had the feeling Guy would carry out any order he was given, no matter how vicious or messy it might be.
Guy was disappointed at the new orders he had just been given. He stepped into the large room that had once housed an illegal casino. He stared regretfully at the man and woman. Each was bound to a chair.
Miles’ was without a shirt. His face and thin chest showed signs of being beaten. None of Darcey’s clothes had been removed. There was only one red mark on her left cheek. Guy had felt obligated to show her who was boss. He was disappointed that she hadn’t fought back. There wasn’t much fun in a single slap to the face.
He began to untie the knots binding Miles to the chair.
“I don’t like doing this,” the thug said, “but I have to follow orders. If I don’t, I’ll be sitting in your chair.” He laughed, thinking that a funny joke.
“But I’m disappointed,” he continued. “The boss told me I could do anything I wanted to you if your boyfriend didn’t do what he was told. I could exsanguinate you if I wanted. I didn’t know what that meant. But I Googled it. It sounded like fun. Do you know what it means?”
Miles weakly shook his head, indicating the negative.
Guy laughed. “It means to drain the blood from your body. I was looking forward to seeing that. But orders are orders. I guess the boss has decided to give your boyfriend another chance.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Miles said, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s my husband.”
Guy laughed again. “Your husband? Then I guess that makes you the wifey, doesn’t it? Well, I’ll tell you what, wifey, the boss is sending out some groceries. When they get here, you can get your skinny self in the kitchen and do the cooking. She can help you,” he said, as he began releasing Darcey from her bonds.
By nine o’clock the team leaders, Lieutenant Mitchum, Sergeant Patrick, and Special Agent Brady were back in the headquarters conference room. All three reported their assignments had gone off without a hitch. Nancy was the only one who reported resistance, weak though it was.
Each of the leaders reported the presence of Rossi’s men had been noted by the targets of their raids. Christopher had raised the bet to Rossi.
Scott Douglas arrived at the team’s headquarters shortly after nine o’clock. Trent wanted to give Christopher time for the raids to be conducted and team members to report before launching the next part of their plan. In Trent’s mind, it was the most important of all. Scott would not disagree.
Only Trent, Christopher, and Nancy would be participating. The original plan was to include only Christopher and Trent. That was until Nancy told them that if they thought they could exclude her they were dumber than they appeared.
The three of them now huddled with Scott, who had brought a handful of documents and maps with him.
“These documents list all of Rossi’s real estate holdings in the area. At least all that I know about. I can’t imagine there would be more that I’m not aware of,” Scott said. “I’ve marked them all on this map of the Bay area.”
“There are a lot of x’s on the map, Scott,” Trent pointed out. “Do any of them stand out to you as a place they might use to hold Darcey and Miles?”
“I’m not used to this sort of thing, Trent,” Scott replied, nervously, “so I’m not really sure what to look for.”
Trent glared at him.
“But there is one place that seems to me a logical choice. It’s here.” Scott had a red marker among the items he had brought with him. He drew a circle around one of the x’s on the coast south of San Francisco
“The location matches the description that Rossi’s security guard gave me. What do you know about it?” Trent asked.
“It sits right on the ocean about twenty-five miles south of San Francisco. Rossi’s grandfather and great grandfather used it for smuggling. It also was a bar and illegal casino at various times. It has a few rooms on the upper floors so it was probably used for prostitution as well. It’s been abandoned for years. I’m not sure why Rossi has let it sit unused. It’s valuable property. It’s not like him to pass up the opportunity for profit.”
“Unless you need a place to stash stolen goods or maybe a few hostages every now and then,” Christopher suggested.
Trent and Christopher drove past the dilapidated building without slowing or demonstrating any interest in it. Two miles farther south on the Coast Highway they parked the truck at a scenic vista site. They hiked through the hills and rocks on the west side of the highway until they were adjacent to and above the old hotel.
The building was a quarter mile off the highway and built directly above the water. Approach was via an unpaved road over hard-packed sand.
They found a place among the rocks where they could lie concealed to watch the building, each with his own binoculars. For the first hour they saw nothing.
The building looked to be roughly square. Approximately one hundred feet per side. That would make it 10,000 square feet on the ground floor. There were two upper floors. 30,000 square feet. A lot of area to search.
The windows had been painted over. Any lights on the inside couldn’t be seen from the outside.
They agreed that most of the action would be on the first floor. It seemed logical that the men holding Darcey and Miles wouldn’t want to get too spread out. There would probably be bedrooms on the upper floors. Rossi’s men on site would no doubt take turns sleeping.
Darcey and Miles would probably be restrained and not comfortable. The kidnappers wouldn’t be concerned about how well their captives were sleeping. To the contrary. The more sleep-deprived the captives were the easier it would be to control them.
Trent studied approaches to the old building, which sat on a small cove. He pointed out to Christopher that a jumble of rocks similar to those in which they lay concealed came almost to the walls on both sides of the building. The rocks would provide cover for the team as they moved in.
They were beginning to wonder if Scott had guessed wrong when a dark sedan drove up. Three men got out and went to the rear of the vehicle. When the driver popped the trunk open, each man took a box and carried it to the building, the last man closing the trunk.
The door that looked like the main entrance into the old building opened, held by a fifth man. The men carrying the boxes entered the building. The door closed. The driver of the car drove to the far end of the building, disappearing behind it. It almost appeared as though the vehicle had driven into the inlet.
“This building isn’t abandoned,” Trent said. �
�Those men were carrying groceries. Rossi has kept up the appearance of an abandoned building. I’ll bet he’s found many uses for it.”
“Groceries are a good sign,” Christopher added. “There was a lot of food in those boxes. I think that means Miles and Darcey are still alive and are being fed.”
“Right,” Trent agreed. “Let’s get out of here. We need a plan to get them out.”
They met Nancy and Scott at the Nob Hill condo.
“Look at this,” Christopher said as he made a rough drawing of the building. “The car we saw today drove back here and disappeared. There has to be an approach into the building from the water. It’s the only reason it would ever have been useful for smuggling.
“I’d bet that car drove into a space that was used as a loading dock during Prohibition when booze was smuggled in by water. The goods could be either taken into the building or loaded onto trucks for delivery elsewhere.”
“I think we have to enter from the north side,” Trent observed. “We can deduce that there is some sort of driveway on the north side since we saw the car drive into it. But the inlet has to be L-shaped. If the building opened directly onto the ocean, wave action would make entry almost impossible. By utilizing the shape of this small inlet, the waves are broken, providing a relatively smooth entry.”
“But what if entry into the building from the water is sealed off?” Nancy asked.
“I doubt if it is,” Trent said. “This building is still very much in use. That probably includes entry from the water. Besides, the driver of the car never reappeared after he turned in behind the building. He must have entered the building from the ocean level. I think it’s worth a try. But we need a diversion. Something to attract their attention away from the water.”
“That’s my job.”
Scott’s announcement was a surprise to all three of them.
“That’s a very dangerous offer, Scott,” Christopher said. “You might not survive it.”
“I’m the one who got us into this mess. It’s only fair that I do whatever I can to get us out.”
“You being dead does us no good, Scott,” Christopher argued.
“Believe me, I’m in no hurry to die. But if that happens, I have provided you all the financial details of Rossi and his fiduciaria. You’ll have no problem convicting all four organizations in court.”
“If our plan works, we won’t need to go to court. The four partners will destroy each other. Remember the den of snakes,” Trent said.
“We have to be prepared for whatever direction this thing takes, Trent,” Christopher said. “All right, Scott, but at least let me get you a gun.”
“No,” Scott said. “No gun. I wouldn’t know what to do with it. Besides, if I’m your diversion the first thing they’ll do is search me. I would be safer unarmed.”
The other three would be armed. Trent with the Desert Eagle; Christopher with his Smith & Wesson; Nancy with her Ruger. Trent went to the bedroom he shared with Darcey, returning with the pink and black gym bag.
They made sandwiches while they waited for night. Trent wanted everyone to have plenty of energy but wanted no one to eat so much as to feel sluggish
He and Christopher discussed how many of Rossi’s men they could expect to encounter. They had seen four enter the building earlier in the day. A fifth was seen opening the door for them. They thought two or three must have been out of sight. They decided the logical number would be eight.
With surprise on their side they thought they could handle eight. The difficulty would be to do so while keeping Scott, Miles, and Darcey alive.
Ordinarily they would have scheduled this type of operation in the early hours of the morning. That’s when people were most vulnerable. But they didn’t think they could wait. Trent’s penetration of Rossi’s compound had gained them a little time. A few hours. No more than that. Once Rossi realized another day had passed and Scott still hadn’t followed orders, there was no way to know what he would do.
It was fully dark when they parked at another pullout, this one a mile north of the building. Trent rode with Christopher in his truck. Nancy followed them in her car, a non-descript, three year old sedan. The Bentley was left behind. It would attract too much attention.
They waited in their vehicles until Christopher’s phone rang. Scott was calling to say he would be there in an hour. The call was prearranged. It was part of the plan.
They had an hour to work their way through the rocks bordering the ocean. Fortunately, the roar of the surf meant any noise they made wouldn’t be heard.
They had to be in place when Scott arrived. They didn’t know what would happen when he was inside. They only knew it was critical that they get into the building soon after he arrived.
They made two stops on their way to the coast. The first was to the conference room serving as headquarters for Christopher’s team. There he retrieved several sets of handcuffs.
The second stop was to the store Trent had used before. They bought three lights with elastic head bands. They would have to be careful in using them but they would at least come in handy when they were underneath the building alongside the small inlet. They wouldn’t use the lights on their approach.
They were surprised to find the store sold combat face paint. They didn’t ask why. They used it to darken the backs of their hands and their faces.
The trek through the rocks was difficult. Nancy held her own with the men. If anything, she had an easier time than Christopher. His large size made it harder for him to navigate through the natural maze of boulders. Trent was hampered by weaponry. In addition to the Desert Eagle, a large handgun itself, he carried the pink and black gym bag.
They made it to the edge of the rocks bordering the old building with ten minutes to spare. They would have to cross twenty-five yards of hard-packed sand in the open before reaching the vehicle entry, which they could now see at the rear of the building. So far their deductions were correct. Their luck was holding. Trent was confident they would find entry into the building itself once they were below it at the water level.
Exactly ten minutes later, Scott’s gray Mercedes pulled up to the main entrance. They watched him walk up to the door and knock loudly. There was silence.
He knocked again. Finally the door was opened.
They heard him speak to whoever opened the door.
“I’m Scott Douglas.”
They couldn’t hear what was said in return.
“I’m the reason you’re holding two people. Jonathan Rossi is mad at me. Not them.”
They heard nothing from whoever Scott was addressing. He did see an arm reach out to grab Scott’s shirt and pull him into the building. They watched as a man stepped outside, holding a strange looking rifle in his hands.
“That’s interesting,” Trent said, speaking softly, the roar of the surf muffling the sound of his voice. “A small rifle. Looks like one of those survival weapons. Probably a .22. Not very powerful but a sneaky little weapon at close range. It’s not a threat to us out here. Inside is another matter.”
They stayed low among the rocks as the man looked around. He opened the door to Scott’s car to look inside. He walked around the parking area, looking in all directions. As he turned his face toward them, they remained motionless.
When he was satisfied that Scott had come alone he went back inside. Trent, Christopher, and Nancy waited a full five minutes to be sure he was gone.
Under different circumstances they would have waited another five or ten minutes. But Scott’s entry into the building was another shot fired into the den of snakes. They had to get Darcey, Miles, and Scott out now. When the snakes started striking it was important that they hit each other. No one else.
Christopher led his team, with weapons drawn, to the driveway leading down to water level. They reached the building without hearing any alarms. Still they pressed themselves against the wall as they side-stepped down the slanted driveway. At the bottom, Christopher was the first to lo
ok around the corner. As they had deduced, the water was relatively free from wave action thanks to the L shaped inlet. There was a concrete loading dock along their side, wide enough for trucks.
As they turned into the darkness of the water entry, all three switched on their head-mounted lights. The concrete landing extended all the way under the building. The car they had seen arrive earlier in the day was parked there, along with two other sedans and the dark-colored van used to kidnap Darcey and Miles.
A highly polished wooden runabout was tied alongside the loading dock. It was meant for speed rather than hauling freight. It was there for a quick getaway on the water.
At the end of the dock was a door with glass panels on the top side. The way in.
They moved quickly, carefully, and quietly down the loading dock, keeping close to the wall. It was dark inside. They could see nothing through the glass panes. Not surprisingly, the door was locked.
Christopher was preparing to risk the noise of smashing the glass when Nancy put her hand on his arm, stopping him. Holstering her Ruger, she knelt by door. With a set of picks produced from her pocket she quickly released the two locks that ineffectively secured the door.
Christopher looked at her with a mixture of respect and fear. He lived with this woman and didn’t know about this skill. He wondered what other skills she had unknown to him. But there was no time to consider that now.
They were in a basement hallway leading off the loading dock. Doors lined the hallway on both sides. Storage rooms, probably from the days when the Rossi Family ran an illegal casino and prostitutes upstairs.
They could see light spilling through a doorway at the end of the hall, about fifty feet away. That would be under the main entrance. The doorway where they had seen people moving in and out. Where Scott Douglas had entered.
They heard the man before they saw him, giving them time to switch off their head lamps. Each of them found a doorway to press as deeply into as possible.
More light spilled into the dark hallway as the door opened. The man who had looked around outside after Scott arrived put in an appearance. The lightweight rifle was still in his hands.
Neighbors and Other Strangers Page 14