by Cara Charles
Brice the pilot texted Dave. ‘Damn it man, we’ve gotta go now! Weather socking us in.’
‘OK. ETA 10 min. Gotta b deputized 1st.’
‘Hurry. Planes are leaving in droves. Can’t ground any of them, ‘cuz airport is private property.’
‘K’ Dave texted Mac. ‘On our way in 20. Plane ready. Out.’ Dave texted Kane. ‘Plane ready. Meet me at the rig now.’
Dave and Deedee ran down the stairwell.
Kane was waiting in their rig.
Dave and Kane drove to Sheriff’s office with the siren on.
Hal was sacked out in his office.
Dave got a very tanned Paul to deputize them. “I’ve notified the FBI and the Santa Barbara Sheriff’s office to protect Elise Andersen. What’s your plan?” Paul asked as they headed for the door.
Hal stretched awake and rose to see his boys off, “Give ‘em hell, boys!”
“We’ll have Chris checked out, kick ass, then go and protect the widow, then trap that red headed bitch. See you soon!”
Hal smiled and watched Dave and Kane leave the station.
Paul sent them off with a, thumbs up.
Dave, Deedee and Kane took off for the airport as a thick snow fell again.
Hal went back to his office. He was sipping chamomile tea, chewing baby aspirin. He put a wet towel over his eyes, and lit a joint, his prescription. Chris’s GPS and cell were on his desk. Hal heard the radio say, “Found a black SUV rental abandoned near hospital. Will check out rental company.”
Paul answered a call, then called out to Hal from his office.
“Copy. Hey Hal? Planes and choppers are flowing out of our asses. CSI has photos of the tire treads on both fire roads. They found the other SUV. Four guys. IDs and prints said Homeland SMU, all suffocated.”
Hal listened to the recording on Chris’s phone and burst into tears. He’d gotten a recording of his assassins. He’d tell Paul later. He texted the discovery of the recording to Paul so he wouldn’t disturb his mellow.
‘Copy, so sorry Hal. I loved him, too.’ Paul deputized everyone as they arrived.
Their benefactor “Toyman”, his real name Billy, was a guy who never forgot his beginnings. Billy made millions from silly pet toys and created an Avalanche Watch office for his hometown buddies and Coach Hal. Billy the Toyman had been one of Chris’ oldest friends since they were kids on Hal’s baseball teams. Once a Cougar. Always a Cougar.
Hal took another big hit from his joint. ‘His boys were good boys. He never wanted to lose another one. Maybe Billy would gift them their third chopper.’
Paul had made contact with Chris and Mango’s family. The Andersen widow was next. First, Paul called the Santa Barbara Sheriff, then he called the SF and LA FBI.
It was time.
Paul sighed as he dialed the Andersen family’s home phone number.
Alexei looked at his watch. He’d finished planting the bomb. He went to get warm in the old Volvo and waited for his prey. Little did he know Carlos and Mavra were minutes away from the June Lake airport. He’d missed her again.
ELISE SNUCK into her house in Montecito, crawling through a tunnel in her home’s undetectable basement.
She’d waited longer than their arranged rendezvous time on the boat to come home. No word. Circuits were working but no one picked up. She knew something was very wrong now, she didn’t want to believe it. She hadn’t looked at her cell in hours because it was dead. That message from Lara was there waiting for her.
METAPHOR cameras caught her by her answering machine. Dez watched the monitor from her office.
Elise went right to her answering machine hoping to hear from her family. Her messages played, then the doggie rescue jingle tone played. A song followed —
She sang along…
Elise’s home phone rang. She ignored it and kept singing… “THE DOGGIE IN THE WINDOW“ by Patti Page.
“Ma’am? She’s home and listening to your message.”
“Provide cover only. I’ve got to know if her training is still viable.”
“Copy.” He watched.
Elise sang with her “doggie song” without interruption until it played out.
The phone rang and rang, then stopped.
Thirty seconds later, it rang again. She reluctantly picked it up. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Elise Andersen?”
“Yes?” Elise said.
“Mrs. Andersen? This is Sheriff Paul Buchanan of Mono County. I am very sorry to have to inform you there has been an accident, involving your husband Tom, your daughter Lara and your dog.”
Paul could feel her bracing. A jingle from her answering machine was re-playing. She wasn’t stopping it. He waited for her to ask the question, but she didn’t say anything.
Paul waited until “How Much is that Doggie in the Window,” finished. “Mrs. Andersen are you still there?”
“Yes, Sheriff Buchanan.”
“Mrs. Andersen? Are you alone right now?”
“Yes.”
“Mrs. Andersen? Please sit down.”
“Alright. I’m seated.”
“Mrs. Andersen? I’m saddened to tell you your husband Tom, and your daughter Lara, and your dog… all of them succumbed to injuries created by a massive, an accidental avalanche here in Mammoth that took their car off the road.”
Desiree’s SB team and D&L were in Elise’s back yard and down the street listening in, shook their heads in futility then texted Desiree about the tragic news.
Sid had told Dez minutes earlier. Dez was numb.
CHAPTER TWO — ELISE
‘SHERIFF JUST NOTIFIED Elise, Tom, daughter Lara and family dog killed in Mammoth avalanche. Please advise.’
A chill went up Desiree’s spine. “It is what I’d feared.”
Now it was official. Sid had prepared her. Desiree pounded her desk, enraged after all these years when Elise needed her most, METAPHOR had tragically failed her and destroyed her life and that of her family. Gone, because of an old fool’s carelessness and his psychopath of a granddaughter.
‘Mavra Kimirov had been very resourceful. METAPHOR and Elise’s family had been tragically unlucky. Somehow she was onto Elise. How could she possibly know? A lifetime of protecting Elise and her family was gone, in an instant.’
Tears ran down Desiree’s face.
‘Charles’s name was on that flight record. That’s all it took. Charles had sworn he’d disposed of it. Who else had known?’
She took breaths to center herself. Desiree texted them back as an alert flashed on her computer screen.
‘Bloody hell! Extract her when her call’s over. No WAIT. Abort. Abort. Pull back. Authorities en route.’
ELISE ANDERSEN WAS SILENT.
Paul could feel her processing her tragedy. Over the years he’d learned to wait while the next of kin summoned the courage to ask more.
“What happened Sheriff? I was going up to meet them today. They weren’t due home for a few days?”
“I see. Their bags were in the back of the car, indicating they were on their way home. Due to the heavy snows, the ridge above the road was blown to prevent an avalanche, to prevent the very accident that hurt your family. We have begun an investigation into why the blast was too large. This is what we know. The road crew had cleared and checked the road before giving the go-ahead to the blasting Captain, the most experienced man in avalanche control. He was also the only one in charge of using explosives to blow the ridge. However, a new man was in charge on that front door to the road in which your family and another car entered, and he is dead. We now suspect your family and another car were detoured into the path of this purposely set avalanche. The blasting Captain was found murdered. So someone posing as him brought the whole mountain down on your family and we’re assuming, their security. This is all we have for now. This tragic situation is now a murder investigation. Thirteen total, which includes your family, have died. I’m so very sorry to give this sad news to you, all at once. I hope you can cal
l a family member to be with you. It’s important you not be alone. I’ve notified the FBI, Federal Marshall service and the Santa Barbara Sheriff to come by and post men for your protection and get you in WIT-SEC.”
“Thirteen killed? Tom and my daughter? My dog? What happened to them…? There’s no reason for anyone…” she hesitated. ‘The Kimirov Mining settlement. Ivan? Surely not…’
Elise decided not to say anything about the Ojai Valley Inn ambush. Not yet.
Paul noticed her hesitation. “Something is… Has anyone been threatening you or your husband? Could someone have a vendetta against you? Private security was following them. They also died. Did you have security following them?”
“Yes, because of the $500 million Kimirov Mining settlement of last year. We were a very normal boring family until last year. We became afraid after the Kimirov settlement. We did retain private security. I don’t understand. Why? Why my family? Why not me? Or my brother? I was attacked on the Ojai Valley Inn Golf Course this morning. Could it be Ivan or Mavra Kimirov?”
THE SS1 SURVEILLANCE satellite reported to Desiree the rapid convergence of one lone Black and White as other Black and Whites turned around from wherever they were and headed to the Andersen’s East Valley Road in Montecito neighborhood.
Two black SUVs were exiting the freeway.
Desiree mass texted every METAPHOR member near Elise. ‘Authorities converging on your loc. Evade. Pull back.’
METAPHOR in their utility repair disguises and as joggers, got into their SUVs and pulled back a block as speeding police cars flew passed them.
PAUL WAS SEARCHING Internet while talking to Elise.
“We’ll find the answers, Mrs. Andersen. I promise. After a simple Google search, it’s reported that Ivan Kimirov just died. And the Kimirov Mining case came up as a huge clue to a motive. Please give this some consideration. This is a very sophisticated, highly planned hit. Could this be a hit ordered from Ivan prior to his death or a death bed death wish? You know Russians are quite loyal to their powerful bosses…”
“I don’t think so. Old Ivan Kimirov knew my father during the war he said, he admired him so I doubt this came from him. He was happy to pay, he said. But Ivan just died as you say… Maybe this comes from his granddaughter, Mavra? I heard Mavra Kimirov was quite enraged with Ivan when he declined to appeal and doubled the award.”
“We’ll start our investigation with Kimirov mining. A redheaded woman and a dark haired man escaped the gun battle at the hospital. The woman fits the description of Mavra Kimirov. Still unconfirmed. But she was here at the bar with our dead co-worker last night, identified by the bartender who knew the victim. We have garaged the SUV’S in the print shed now. One thing I’ve learned in this job, Mrs. Andersen is the powerful hate to lose anything.”
Brittany just walked into his outer office with a suitcase.
Elise thought, ‘Mavra Kimirov, of course!’ “Please find my family’s killer, Sheriff. It could be Mavra Kimirov if you can prove without a doubt she was there in your town.”
Paul continued. “Mavra Kimirov has been seen by several people now. The FBI and the local Sheriff should be there any minute now. I’ll keep you on the line until they arrive. Mavra Kimirov as she relates to the Kimirov Mining case is our primary suspect for now. It is snowing heavily here, again. We can have your family to the Coroner’s office in Santa Barbara tomorrow if the roads or the airport are open. I’ll arrange a plane or transport for them as soon as possible. The snow has halted the crime scene investigation. I’ll call back in a few hours and let you know what will follow. Please take my advice and have a friend, neighbor or colleague with you, Mrs. Andersen. You need support. Let me call a relative or friend in for you.”
“Sheriff Buchanan? My brother, Sam Larsen is at the Tenaya Lodge in Yosemite. Everyone I know is on vacation right now. It’s Winter break, and we gave our employees a long holiday vacation to be with their children. Our neighbors are gone, too. I can’t think of anyone. Except Sam. Sam Larsen at Tenaya Lodge. Just have Sam call me, please. I need to go now…”
Paul thought she was far too controlled. That bothered him.
“Please wait a minute or two more. The local Sheriff will be by your side until Sam arrives back home.”
“I just need to process this...” Elise said.
“I understand. He’ll stand watch and have a comfort officer stay with you. They won’t bother you. I am so very sorry, Mrs. Andersen. I will ask your brother to identify your family. I promise you, we will not rest until justice for your family is served. Something evil is at work. Something neither of us understand. After their identification, do you grant permission to begin preliminary lab tests?”
“Yes, I give my permission. You’ve been most kind, Sheriff. Good-bye.”
“No. Wait… Damn it!” The click on his phone sent chills up Paul’s spine.
Elise Andersen was in someone’s crosshairs and she didn’t want to accept it. He dialed her number again. It just rang and rang then the machine picked up…
Elise fell to her knees and wept.
‘Mavra Kimirov has killed my family and probably Angela.’
Paul called back again. Elise’s phone rang and rang and the machine picked up again…
“Damn it!”
The team closest to the house heard her play the answering machine again.
They IM’d Desiree. ‘She has played the jingle again. Three times.’
Desiree replied, ‘Stand by. She may be coming to us. Begin prep.’
SANTA BARBARA COUNTY SHERIFF DEPUTY, Dusty Ballard lay dead in the men’s bathroom at Minnie’s BBQ Shack in Summerland, five minutes south of Montecito. A medium built guy with a proper buzz cut finished putting on Ballard’s name tag. He exited the bathroom, got in Ballard’s Black and White and headed to the Andersen house.
THE “BALLARD” IMPOSTER approached the George Washington Smith Spanish Colonial on East Valley Road, happy he was first to arrive. He had to hurry. But unusual neighbor activity on the road to her house clued him in. Oprah lived down the road a mile, so he dismissed it. East Valley Road was the main drag, so usually a busy street.
When “Ballard” went to knock, he found the door closed but not latched. He eased the door open an inch. Was he too late?
Deputy “Ballard” walkied his contacts. “Going in. Mrs. Elise Andersen? Sheriff. Mrs. Andersen? Looking through the house.”
“Shit. Haul ass. Backup just rolled into drive,” the voice on the walkie warned.
Deputy “Ballard” searched the house. He removed a recent family photo. “Ballard” entered the study. The safe was open and empty. Something large had been removed. The dust-free impression was visible. He took a picture with his cell phone.
Other units rolled into the driveway.
“Ballard’s” rookie backup yelled as he entered the house. “Ballard? Ballard?”
Officer Querimon Lopez still a rookie only a year in the force called out, “Ballard? No one’s answering. Ballard’s B and W is outside. Send in back up. Stop any suspect in this neighborhood.”
Lopez could hear Dispatch. He cruised through the rooms, gun drawn, noted the open safe, and ran to the back where the master bedroom’s French doors were open.
A sets of footprints were on the wet grass. He followed the freshest set. He had to hurry to keep track of them. The sprinklers had come on.
“BALLARD” RAN PULLING off his uniform, stuffing it in trashcans, underneath was a meter reader’s uniform. He doubled back.
Lopez came crashing through the oleander hedges behind him, calling in his whereabouts. Lopez forced his way through a thick hedge.
Ballard slit his throat.
Rookie Lopez was amazed to be on his back watching the blue sky fade out.
ELISE WAS RUNNING full out now. A voice in her head had told her to go to her Dad’s safe, enter his birth date and grab the bag in there. There was a blond wig, sunglasses, current IDs, lots of cash, handguns, clips, and electron
ic devises in the bag. Some looked familiar like she had just bought them, but had forgotten about them.
She put on the wig, the oversized sunglasses and strolled into the neighbor’s back yard, spraying her tracks with spray to confuse search dogs. Her other survival duffle bounced on her back.
The Black and White had just rolled into her driveway. She heard the cop talking on his walkie. Instinct told her he was a fake. She wanted to stay to kill him, but he was small fish.
She stayed off the grass. She found the hidden path that she knew would take her through a storm drain under the 101 Freeway, toward the old Antoinette Clark estate on the beach.
MINUTES LATER, Elise made her way into an ivy covered hedge, that led to a hidden gate that covered steps that led down into the culvert far under the freeway. She jogged on, through the dripping culvert under the cemetery. She was already two miles away. The culvert opened in the cliff under the old estate.
Elise recalled the secret way in, through an oleander hedge, and through the garage. Lifting storage shelf three, it swung open. She went down into the cool basement, clearing the cobwebs with her arms, then up the interior stairs. She was inside the main house, safe. She lay down on the cool linoleum of the butler’s pantry in the old mansion and cried.
OFFICER GARCIA ENTERED star 69 on Elise’s house phone. Paul Buchanan picked up.
“Sheriff Buchanan.”
“Officer Garcia here in Montecito. Did you speak with Elise Andersen sir?”
“Yes, I did. Ten minutes ago, tops. Informed her of her family’s deaths up here in Mammoth. She hung up and wouldn’t answer again. She’s gone isn’t she?”
“Yes, sir. We’ve got a cop-killer, an imposter. Found our guy Ballard’s uniform. And our rookie officer is dead, a few doors down, and our Officer Ballard is dead minus his name tag in a local restaurant bathroom. No signs of a struggle in her house. We just put out an APB for her.”
“Damn it! I knew it. Mavra Kimirov is hell bent on getting her. Elise did the right thing, running. Pray they don’t have her. We’ve got thirteen dead and nine of them murders up here in Mammoth, too. Your situation seems associated. So sorry for your losses. We lost one of ours, too. Any questions give me a call. I’ll update you and your Captain. Pretty slammed at the moment. This is Paul Buchanan at the Mono County Sheriff’s Office. Goodbye for now. And watch your nine.”