by Frank Zafiro
How did I do it? Sneak inside and peek on them? Or would it be better to just brazenly walk up and if it was them, simply steal the girls back?
I’d need as much of an advantage as I could muster. Gus-Goose could be on my side or the other guys’, but until I had Taylor next to me, safe, I couldn’t consider the woman on mine – at least not completely. And because of that, I needed to create an ambush scenario.
Walking in, I approached the counter like I belonged there just as much as the other patrons.
The hostess eyed me like a buffet. “Can I seat you at the counter?”
“You know, that’s really sweet, but I’d like to be in a booth, please, maybe against the far wall?” I winked. “Can’t see you well from the counter when you’re mostly serving behind me, now can I?”
She giggled, as only an older woman can do, and nodded as she led the way with an oversized, over-used menu under her folded arms across her chest. Her ample butt swayed in front of me.
I ignored the men loitering in their seats. They wouldn’t pay any attention to me or what I tried to do. The decided odor of stale alcohol and desperation wafted over me as I passed. The economy had reached that area like everywhere else.
A few more steps brought the table in view that I was really the most interested in. And hell, if I didn’t have the best damned sight. Sitting at the table were Taylor, Gus-Goose and another girl whose face I couldn’t make out.
Damn lucky.
I slid into the seat and lifted a menu, lowered my eyes and hid my face.
Gus-Goose perused the menu, flicking a glance my way. Her gaze lingered on me for just a second but all I was giving her was the back side of a menu. Besides, at that distance, what could she see?
When Gus-Goose looked away, I lowered the menu and stared directly at Taylor. The waitress said something else, but I wasn’t listening. Taylor looked my way, her eyes hard and her face emotionless. But then she recognized me and her eyes glittered as she moved to stand, calling out to me.
“Bull!”
Gus-Goose lowered the menu, taking everything in with a practiced eye which caught me off-guard. She had been anything but calculating when we’d been together, even when we’d first met in the bar.
But then she really saw me. And recognition seemed to jolt through her, but confusion muddled her expression too.
What I wouldn’t give to be a bug in her brain right then.
Oh, shit. She dropped the menu and lunged to the side. I have no idea if she went for her gun or not.
“Taylor, down!” I’d be damned before I’d see Taylor get a bullet meant for me.
My niece dropped to the floor and I scuttled to the side, sliding out of my seat and falling to the floor.
The waitress ran to the counter and back into the kitchen. I’d gotten close enough to their table, I could crawl forward and almost reach Taylor’s arm. Gus-Goose had tucked herself into the back corner, out of sight. Taylor’s sobs filled the sudden silence.
Braced by my good arm, I reached for Taylor’s wrist with my bloodied hand, fingertips grazing her skin.
And suddenly a karate-style chop to my already injured forearm brought a flare of pain and a growl of outrage from deep inside my gut.
But the woman didn’t let up, like in bed, she kept coming at me, but with a kick instead of her lips. And she landed the first one to my hip. I thrust up from the ground, standing over her, but the damn woman was undaunted. She kicked at my knee which dropped me to a half-kneeling position.
She tried to immobilize me. I grabbed her around the waist with my good arm and threw her to the ground, pinning her there. She struggled against my hold, freeing her arm which she proceeded to apply pressure to the soft spot under my axial pulse. Oh, shit, that pissed me off.
And her wiggling around didn’t help my focus.
“Hold still!” I grunted, but she’d only begun to fight as she pinched and clawed against me. She didn’t struggle with chaotically placed attacks. No, instead, the woman came at me with a knowledge of fighting that screamed previous training and a good one.
I caught my breath as her knee broke between my thighs and connected with my crotch and she pushed me off her.
Shit just got real.
TWENTY-SIX
Gus
I pushed Bull with all my strength, but he barely moved to the side, slowly sinking to one knee and an elbow while he clutched at his groin. That was all the space I needed, though. I scrambled out from under him and scooted backward and tore my gun from my waistband, which is what I should have done to start with.
Stupid, stupid.
“Who the hell are you?” I yelled at him, the barrel leveled at him.
He held out one hand toward me in a calming gesture. “Re…lax,” he grunted around the pain.
I cast a look sideways to see Faina and Taylor both huddled under the table, staring out at me with scared expressions.
No, check that. Faina was scared, replacing most of that dull, empty expression she usually bore. Taylor was scared, too, but her eyes were full of something I’d yet to see from either of them.
Hope.
And she was staring at Bull.
I looked back at him. “Don’t tell me to relax. Who are you?”
“I’m just Bull,” he said, slowly rising to his knees.
The waitress who’d served us screamed from around the corner. “I called the cops! The cops will be here any minute!”
Bull’s expression didn’t change at the news.
I stared at him, trying to work things out. How had he followed me here? Why had he followed me here?
Bull returned my gaze, steady and strong. His jaw briefly clenched in pain, but he didn’t make any noise. Then he said, “It’s not what you think.”
“How do you know what I think?”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
“Then answer my question before the cops get here.” I motioned toward Taylor. “How do you know her name?”
He didn’t answer right away. Then he asked me, “What are you doing with these girls? You’re not one of those asshole sex smugglers, are you? Please tell me I’m not that blind.”
“Of course not,” I snapped. “But I’ll ask the goddamn questions. Why the interest?” I glanced over at Taylor again. “Is she…your daughter?”
His face softened then. Just a little. He shook his head.
“Then why…?” I asked.
“She’s my niece.”
I let that sink in. It made sense, I supposed. But I didn’t lower my gun. “That’s why you…” I stopped, then said, “That’s why the deal at the bar?”
He blinked, unsure of my question for a moment. Then realization flooded his features, and he scowled. “No! Hell, no! I was down in that area looking for Taylor. Meeting you was pure coincidence.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care what you believe. It’s the truth.” He pointed at my gun. “You can put that away. I’m not a threat to you.”
I considered that, but kept my gun aimed at him while I thought. I stole another glance at Taylor. She was still looking directly at Bull with an expression that told me everything I needed to know. He was telling the truth.
“Just let me take her,” Bull said. “I’ll take her and leave before the police come.”
I nodded slowly, then stopped. “Wait. Will you take both?”
“Huh?”
“Both girls. Can you take them both? I need to get them to safety but it’d be better if no one knew it was me that got them there.”
“Why?”
“Never mind. Just tell me. Can you do it?”
He considered for the barest of moments before nodding. “Yeah, I can.”
I motioned toward Faina. “Just get her to the police or a fire station or—”
“I know what to do,” Bull said. He motioned toward Taylor. “C’mere, girl.”
Like a shot, Taylor bolted from under the table and into Bull’s arm
s. He rocked back with the force of her embrace, then enveloped her with one of his arms while the other hung limply at his side.
“It’s all right,” he whispered to her. Then, looking at me over her shoulder, he said, “You can quit pointing that thing at me.”
I lowered the gun.
Behind Bull, I saw the front door of the restaurant burst open. Three men charged in. I recognized the clothing on two of them.
They were from Pasco. From the house.
The man in the lead clutched an AK-47 in his hands. The curved, signature magazine extended from the bottom of the gun. He scanned the restaurant intently.
His eyes settled on me.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Bull
The woman pushed at my shoulder, raising her weapon past my side. She yelled at everyone in the restaurant. “Get down!” Fear and resignation hardened her eyes.
Spinning, I shoved Taylor behind me, reaching for my own gun. A thunk and groan from about my hip level caught my attention but didn’t distract me enough to make me turn around.
“Dat' nam devushek!” Russian yelling I didn’t understand but could guess at its meaning, held all of us frozen.
The guy in front of two other men holding AK-47s stared at Gus-Goose, his eyes steely and arrogant. “Dat’ nam devushek, glupaya suka!”
On a breath, I whispered from the side of my mouth, lips not moving. “What’d he say?”
“I don’t know, but he called me a stupid bitch. I’m sure he wants the girls.” Gus-Goose didn’t hide the conversation. She spoke freely and without lowering her voice or her gun.
Arms steady at eye level, she squared off with her shoulders and her legs. She reminded me of buddies of mine on the force. Her stance, her confidence with the gun.
From the corner of my eye, I watched as she carefully aimed at each man, the tiniest shift in arm position the only indication that she changed targets at all.
The waitress’s shrill cries from behind the kitchen area penetrated the silence we’d somehow created in the front of the restaurant.
AK-47s aimed toward the ceiling above our heads. In such proximity, I couldn’t rely on the looser accuracy of the assault rifles. Hell, with as close as we were, the Russian bastards could hit us blindfolded with sling-shots and cause damage.
“Nyet Rossii?” The leader arched his eyebrow and jerked his hand to the man on his right. “Govoryat na angliyskom yazyke.”
The second man jerked his head. “Yes.” He turned to me, his eyes only skimming over Gus-Goose. “You give us girls. Now.”
I didn’t lower my gun and my momentary partner didn’t either. “No.”
He looked over his shoulder at his boss. “Nyet.”
The leader held out his hand. “Kalash.”
The translator shrugged and handed over the assault rifle. The leader pointed the gun at the men frozen at the table where I’d passed them. His eyes didn’t flicker at the men, but stayed trained on us. He pulled the trigger and a rapid fire rat-a-tat spewed into the air around us.
Bodies jerking, two of the men in the booth didn’t move after the bullets tore through their flesh at such close range. The other two men across from their dead friends, cried out, covering their mouths with their hands as they stared at the bodies.
A knot in my stomach tightened, clenching and burning with every nerve in my system. They’d never let Taylor or the other girl go as long as they were alive. Something in their dark eyes attested to their intense desire to kill me… and most likely Gus-Goose as well. Unless she was considered merchandise now, too.
But no, she’d never break and I think the leader suspected as much. He nodded toward her and said, “Chestno suka ona moya.”
His translator lowered his eyelids and finally looked toward the woman on my right. “You are his, bitch.”
And while Gus-Goose wasn’t mine by any stretch of the imagination and certainly not for me to protect or defend, all-consuming anger ripped through me combining with the fire of my wound and the constant adrenaline onslaught I’d been under for days. I didn’t have to move much to bring the leader’s head into target.
Even with the other AK-47 aimed our way and a mad man holding the gun on innocent people, the only thought I could recall in that split second decision was a saying I’d heard from my grandpa while I was growing up. I’d be doing something that would piss my mother off and Gramps would say, “If you’re gonna piss, son, aim far. Nothing to be gained by dribbling on your trousers.” I’d asked my mom what he’d meant by that and she’d laughed. “It’s Gramps way of saying in for a penny, in for a pound.”
I’d already killed a man. What was one more at that point?
I squeezed that damn trigger and didn’t even register the recoil as I reached for Gus-Goose’s arm, my fingers unable to curl around anything.
The leader’s head snapped back, the force of my bullet pushing his body to topple away from us. The translator spun toward his boss in a half-crouch and the other gun spit bullets our direction. I dove behind the counter inches from Gus-Goose’s knees and motioned for Taylor to get down. My efforts proved redundant as Taylor and the other girl had already crouched under the table and tucked themselves as far into the corners as possible.
In the split-second everything took place, Gus-Goose grunted and joined me on the floor. But she didn’t look to have come voluntarily. Blood spread quickly on her upper right side. A dark circle through the material gaped at me. I yanked her against the wood beside me with my good arm. “Stay down.”
Bullets peppered the laminate above the table and even the vinyl booth seating. Hugging my injured arm to my waist, I crawled on one arm to the edge of the counter and peeked around, trying to see anything between the shiny chrome legs of the stools.
Resting beside the counter base, I aimed my gun again at the legs of the men, one of which crouched over the body I’d dropped. Something didn’t sit right with me shooting an unarmed man. I focused on the legs of the other bastard and pulled the trigger again.
My accuracy for field and range held true. I took out his knee and he dropped to the floor. He must have held onto the trigger of the rifle because bullets pelted into the tile.
I backed up to avoid possible ricochet.
In the distance, sirens screamed their impending arrival. Gus-Goose hadn’t moved. Legs straight out and her head back on the faux-wood, she breathed slow and shallow. But her slight movements didn’t stop the blood seeping onto her shirt and spreading like a terrible dye job.
Not for one minute did I believe it was over.
Footsteps squeaked and rubbed on the tile. I glanced again around the corner, gun raised, certain I’d have to shoot the man for coming toward us. But he actually dragged out first the leader and then the injured man, leaving his AK-47 resting on the floor at the feet of the men they’d killed.
One of the men still alive at the table slid from his seat after the men had disappeared out the door. He bent over, retrieving the rifle from the floor and followed the impaired trio outside. A muffled rat-a-tat-tat-tat and flashes of light and a sharp cut-off cry declared it was over. Maybe not the way I would’ve done it, but it was a method I understood nonetheless.
And the reds and blues flashed over my head, fractionated by the glass of the windows. The whole restaurant lit up like a disco.
I scooted over to Gus-Goose. She didn’t move, holding her finger on her gun and resting it on her upper thigh.
“Taylor, hand me the napkins on your table. Hurry, doll.” I held out my good hand, and curled my fingers around the cheap linen napkins she handed me.
“Hold on,” I urged Gus-Goose.
Folding half of them in two, I leaned her forward and packed the napkins behind the exit wound and the wood, pushing her back to hold the cloth against her wound. Then I pressed the other half of the makeshift gauze to the entrance hole and applied pressure.
She shook her head, eyes closed and murmured. “Shit, that hurts.”
�
��Yeah, I’m sorry you got hit. That wasn’t planned.”
She opened her eyes and pinned me with a look I hadn’t seen since my ex-wife lived with me and I said something past the level of acceptable-stupid. “Really?” she croaked. “I never would’ve known.”
Ignoring her sarcasm, I looked to the girls. “Come sit by me, girls. That way I can still protect you.” Taylor did as I said, but the other girl huddled deeper into the corner. I didn’t blame her. As far as she was concerned, I was just another big guy telling her what to do.
I looked to Gus-Goose. “What now?”
She drew in a shallow breath. “Unless you can carry….all of us out of the back and past the cops….we wait. And make sure our guns are in plain sight.” She didn’t fight me as I pushed on her gunshot wound. She did whisper through clenched teeth as I tightened my hold. “You’re bleeding, too.”
I tilted my head. “I’m bigger. I can handle a bit of blood loss. Don’t worry about it.” And a flash of just how different in size we were crossed my mind. She may have been smaller but she’d been the perfect fit.
Official shouting from outside drew my attention. “I’ve killed a couple times now,” I told her. “You need to let me take the blame. I’m sure I’m going to jail. Might as well take all of it.”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that, Bull.” She rolled her head back on her shoulders and shushed me. “Don’t say anything until they tell us what they know. Just don’t do anything. Don’t resist.”
Don’t do anything? I wished I could pull all of them into a fireman’s hold and run as far as I could.
Taylor squeezed my hand, her side pushed against mine as she sought something stable after her ordeal.
I would do the same thing, if I were in her place.
But how could I help Gus-Goose? I didn’t even know how I would help myself.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Gus
I was fading fast, and I knew it.