All the way to the door Fred wondered if he should put up a fight. Going willingly into captivity—especially into a place that was in someone else’s control—was seldom a good idea. But with seven of Romano’s guys crowding around himself and the mayor, it seemed likely that putting up a fight wouldn’t win him free; however, it might get some innocent bystanders killed. A few minutes later he and the mayor had been unceremoniously searched and shoved into a limo. The big car started out of Lareta toward Blayton.
Things didn’t look good.
***
Getting back in her car, Roni said, “Was that Mayor Jennings? Do you recognize him?”
Hax said, “Sorry, current events aren’t really my thing.”
As if she were speaking to an imbecile, “Google it!”
“Oh, sorry,” Hax said, pulling out his phone. A couple of minutes later he said, “Yeah. That’s the mayor alright.”
Roni said, “It looks like we’re heading to Blayton.” She sighed, “I’ll bet we’re going to Romano’s recycling facility.”
“Oh,” Hax said sympathetically, “That’s where they killed those people, right?”
“Yeah,” Roni said, dispiritedly.
***
Riding in the back of the limo, Fred tried to catch the mayor’s eye a couple of times, but without success. In fact, he thought the man seemed to be avoiding his eyes. Probably thinks we’re both going to die, Fred thought. Since I think the same thing, I can hardly blame him. Fred’s mind raced as he tried to conceive of a way out of their situation. It seemed unlikely he’d be able to talk the Romano organization into letting him go and the chances that he and the mayor could fight their way free when surrounded by a bunch of younger, stronger, armed thugs appeared laughably remote. Besides, I have a feeling that Jennings has already given up. Joining Romano probably seems like the best alternative if Romano’s got his family. If I did try to fight free, there wouldn’t be any help from that quarter.
The massive guy sitting next to Fred had been the leader of the group back at Milton’s. Fred looked more closely at him. He thought the guy was Julio, supposedly one of Romano’s lieutenants or at least one of his close bodyguards. Trying a gambit, he said, “Hey, Julio, you know, if you guys kill even more FBI agents, it’s going to bring the entire agency down on you with SWAT teams and every…”
Julio interrupted Fred with a vicious elbow to the ribs. “Shut up, asshole!”
After gasping with pain and lack of breath for a moment, Fred tried again, “I’m just say…”
Another furious blow to the midriff convinced Fred to give it up.
***
The limo took them to Blayton. Fred wasn’t surprised to recognize that it was turning into Romano’s trash and recycling center. An enormous door rolled open on the side of the warehouse type building. The limo drove through it. Inside, he saw a Cadillac Escalade and a number of men who looked like the kind of thugs that usually worked for Romano.
With mixed emotions, Fred saw Scott and Martin, his outside backup guys at Milton’s. They were on their knees. At least they weren’t dead already. On the other hand, they hadn’t escaped and weren’t going to be calling for any help.
Julio opened the door of the limo. He and his men essentially dragged Fred and Mayor Jennings out, shoving them towards Romano. There was a pause while Romano listened to low descriptions of events from his men and looked over the assorted IDs, badges, guns, and other equipment his guys had taken from Fred and the other two FBI agents.
Romano turned, “Well Mr. Mayor,” he said, watching Jennings, “what went down?”
Jennings briefly touched his chest, evidently to indicate the wire through which Romano would have heard the conversation. Speaking in a monotone, he said, “I met with Agent Rector like you said. I’m sure you’re aware of everything we discussed. Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
Glumly, Fred realized that, as he’d feared, the mayor didn’t intend to rebel any further—despite the mutinous note Jennings had passed Fred at the restaurant. Romano narrowed his eyes at Jennings, “You believe that crap about how they haven’t made any progress on the murders?”
“Yes sir.”
Romano glanced at Fred, then back to Jennings, “And why didn’t you guys meet at the steakhouse like you’d planned?”
Jennings shrugged, “You probably heard him tell me he thought too many people knew about the meeting. I don’t know any other reason he wouldn’t have wanted to meet there.”
Romano turned to Fred. Lifting his chin interrogatively, he said, “Why not the steakhouse?”
Unable to think of a way to turn an answer to that question to his own advantage, Fred shrugged. “Someone at my office suggested Big Bend. It’s been my policy that when someone suggests a location, I should avoid it on the principle it may have been compromised.”
Romano stared at him for a moment, then said, “Who suggested Milton’s?”
“Google.”
Romano narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything. Fred thought the man might be wondering whether Fred was making fun of him. As long as he had an opening to get a word in, he decided to go for it. “You know, as near as I can tell, you, or other members of the mob, have killed a couple of FBI agents and the chief of police, as well as a fairly large number of citizens. That’s the kind of thing that gets Washington stirred up enough to send down major task forces with military weaponry. If I were you guys I’d be thinking about getting out of …”
Romano made some kind of signal to Julio and the man punched Fred a solid one-two in the kidneys, cutting him off and dropping him to his knees. As Fred gasped in agony, Romano turned to the guys around Scott and Martin. “You believe these two assholes work for the FBI too?”
“Yes Mr. Romano,” one of his men answered. “They were carrying FBI badges. Not sure if there’s a way to tell the badges are real but I think they are.”
Romano turned to Scott, “What were you doing at Milton’s?”
Scott looked surly, “Backup.”
“Backup to…” Romano turned to look at the badges and wallets laid out on the back of the limo, “backup to Frederick Rector, the mouthy one on the floor over there?”
“Yeah.”
“And who is Mr. Rector?”
“None of your goddamned business.”
That took balls, Fred thought, mouthing off to someone with Romano’s reputation. Scott and Martin both looked pale as sheets, suggesting they knew just how bad the situation was. His hope that maybe they’d gotten word out to the task force before they’d been captured diminished even further.
From his angle, Fred couldn’t see Romano’s face, but the man’s body language as he stalked towards Scott certainly suggested a guy barely in control of his temper. Romano held out a hand and one of his men put a pistol in it.
Oh shit! Fred thought resignedly, starting to struggle back to his feet, He’s gonna kill Scott.
Instead, Romano squatted down in front of the kneeling Scott and said in a voice that sounded tightly furious, “Again. Who is Mr. Rector?”
Martin looked to be in a wide-eyed panic. For a moment, Fred thought Martin would blurt the answer.
However, Scott shook his head before Martin said anything.
The gun roared.
For a moment, Fred thought Romano’d shot Scott in the chest, but then—from the way Scott fell over, clutching at his upper leg—Fred realized Romano’d shot the young agent in the thigh, breaking his femur. Once again Romano said, “Who is Mr. Rector?” When Scott didn’t answer immediately, Romano kicked him in the area of the break and said as if curious, “Should I shoot the other one?”
Through gritted teeth, Scott hissed, “He’s head of the Blayton Task Force on Organized Crime.”
“That wasn’t so difficult, now was it?” Romano said, turning towards Martin.
Martin dove back and to his right, going from his knees, to his hands and knees, then launching himself to his feet. He ran toward
an immense stack of warehouse shelving. Fred thought he might think he’d be able to hide within them. Romano raised his gun and shot at Martin as he ran, causing him to dodge to one side.
Fred started to move toward Romano, thinking that adding to the confusion could only be good, but Julio kicked his legs out from under him.
Romano fired again as several of his men also lifted their weapons. Martin went down, crashing into a tall ladder that’d been leaning against the shelving.
The ladder tipped over and began falling.
***
When the limo turned into the recycling center, Roni pulled to the side of the road and parked her car, shouting, “That’s Romano’s place!”
As she jumped out, Hax said, “Why are you stopping out here?!”
“Hoping it’ll keep my car off of their security cameras!”
“Come on! It’s a gray Honda Civic without a license plate. There must be a million gray Hondas on the streets!” Roni didn’t slow down. So, straightening his balaclava to improve his vision, Hax got out and ran after her.
The limo slowed in front of a huge warehouse type building, but a big rollup door started to rise. Moments later, the limo pulled through the opening and the door began to descend. Roni was running full tilt, but it was painfully evident she wasn’t going to make it. Hax thought she might try to dive under the door, but the opening had gotten down to just a few inches by the time she arrived.
Roni turned to the human sized door next to the big roller door. Hax jogged up. “It’s locked!” she said. She looked through the wire reinforced glass window in the door, “They’ve got the mayor! The FBI guys are on their knees! Shit! This looks bad!” She turned to Hax, “How are we going to get in there?”
Hax said, “I’ll run around the building. Maybe there’s another door they left unlocked. While I’m doing that, why don’t you see what Google says about breaking these wire-reinforced windows?”
Roni frowned, “Even if we broke the glass, we’d still have to force a hand through the wire, wouldn’t we?”
Hax had already started running around the building. He shouted back, “Probably. But check it out. Maybe there’s some technique for getting through.”
A couple of minutes later Hax was back, having checked four other doors. They’d all proved to be locked as well. Roni wasn’t by the door. Instead she was bent over at the edge of the gravel of the parking lot. “Everything’s locked,” Hax said. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m trying to find a rock. According to Google, wire reinforced windows break easier than plain glass!”
“Okay…” Hax said, finding this hard to believe. “But after you’ve broken the glass, what do you do about the wire?”
“Believe it or not, when you break the glass, the wire breaks with it!” She stood up and held out a fist -sized rock.
“You’ve got to be shitting me!” Hax said taking the rock and trotting over to the door. They both heard a gunshot. He stepped up to the door and looked wide-eyed through the glass. “They shot one of the FBI guys in the leg!”
Roni said, “Break the glass down near the doorknob! You should be able to reach through and turn the knob from the inside.” When Hax stepped up with the rock in his fist, intending to hammer at the glass, Roni said, “Wait! Wired glass breaks with lots more sharp edges. Step back and throw the rock at it!”
Hax thought that sounded crazy, but he stepped back a couple of feet and said, “You’re going to keep them from noticing this, right?” As soon as she nodded, he threw the rock. To his astonishment, the bottom quarter of the panel of glass shattered into multiple, long sharp-looking shards. He stepped up, checked quickly to make sure no one in the room had turned to look, then reached in through an opening much larger then he’d expected and turned the knob from the inside. Pushing the door open he pulled out his gun as he strode into the building. Realizing just how many men Romano had in there, he also reached for his spare magazine.
Hax had just begun trying to figure out who was who when one of the FBI guys scrambled around and started to run.
Romano started shooting and Hax turned toward him.
The guy who’d been running crashed into a ladder and it started to fall toward Hax.
Hax skipped out of the way.
Just before the ladder slammed to the ground, Hax heard Roni squeak in dismay.
He turned to see his sister knocked to the side. She sprawled bonelessly to the concrete floor. Though his first impulse was to run to her, he suddenly felt eyes on him. Turning, he saw guns lifting his direction. He threw himself violently to the right, lifting his own weapon…
***
Since it didn’t seem to be a threat to his men, Fred ignored the ladder as it fell. Instead, his eyes were focused on Martin, wondering how badly the young agent had been injured. However, when the ladder crashed down, he felt his attention suddenly jerk that direction.
The ladder had evidently hit a girl he hadn’t noticed. She was sprawled bonelessly on the floor, looking unconscious. He wondered when she’d come in. She wore all black. Even her head was covered so he could only tell she was female because of her lithe shape. He supposed her ninja outfit must’ve let her hide in the shadows.
Suddenly his eyes jerked to his left. There was another person, a guy. Tall, thin, dressed all in black like the girl. Fred realized he was wearing a balaclava and amber wraparound glasses. Fred’s assumption that this was another of Romano’s men suddenly changed in the face of the fact that Romano was bringing up his gun to kill the guy.
The guy dove to the right, swinging up his own arm. Fred suddenly realized ninja guy had a pistol too. Not only Romano, but about ten of Romano’s men were lifting their weapons.
Ninja guy’s gonna die too, Fred thought sadly. In view of the impending crossfire, Fred dove for the floor, wondering if he might be able to grab a weapon of his own.
A clash of gunfire rang through the room. Fred thought sadly, Ninja guy’s done for.
Landing on the floor, Fred rolled to his back. The head of the guy who’d been standing next to him jerked back a little. The guy fell backward.
In the periphery of his vision, Fred saw the ninja guy bounce back to his feet from the dive he’d taken. He poured a clatter of fire from what must be an automatic pistol…
Other than the ringing in Fred’s ears, the room fell silent.
The ninja guy ran over to kneel beside the girl in black as Fred surveyed the room. All of Romano’s men had dived for the floor like you might expect in a gun battle, but to Fred’s surprise, though some were moving, none of them seemed to be trying to shoot the ninja guy any more.
In fact, none of them were even getting up.
Fred glanced at the mobster who’d been standing next to him. There was a bullet hole exactly in the center of his forehead!
Motion drew his eye as one of the men in the middle of the room stood up. Seeing a pistol lying nearby, Fred reached for it while glancing again to see what the guy in the middle of the room was doing.
It was the mayor, looking around. He looked stunned.
Fred slowly stood up. Some of the mob guys were moving, but only with purposeless twitches. As his eyes moved from one to the other, whenever he could see a forehead, he saw a hole in the center of it. As near as he could tell, each hole was exactly in the center of the guy’s forehead.
Dazedly, Fred started walking toward the two people dressed in black, realizing the man had just saved Fred’s life. Suddenly he remembered his own men and turned to find Scott. The man lay on his side, still with a two-handed grip on his own thigh, but he stared wide-eyed at Fred. “What just happened?” Scott asked.
“Goddamned if I know,” Fred said, bending to pick up a cellphone he saw on the floor. As he dialed 911, he said, “If you think you’re going to live, I’m going to go check on Martin.”
“Go.”
As Fred walked toward Martin he told the 911 operator to send ambulances and police to the warehouse at Romano�
��s Recycling Center. He tried to dial the task force, but the phone was locked except for 911. In a moment of panic, Fred looked back at Romano’s guys, afraid that one of them might be getting up.
The mayor was still the only one upright. He seemed to be wandering around, checking on Romano’s guys.
Fred knelt beside Martin who lay face down, unmoving. There was a hole in the back of his jacket and blood spreading beneath him. “Aw, Martin,” Fred sighed sadly as he felt hopelessly for a pulse.
Martin seemed dead, but Fred felt reluctant to leave him unless there was something urgent that needed to be done. Fingers still on Martin’s neck, Fred looked back around the warehouse. Scott was sitting up holding his leg. The mayor kicked someone a couple of times, then turned and started walking toward Fred.
The two ninja people had vanished! What the hell? Fred thought. He swept the room with his eyes again, thinking he must have missed them like he had at first. Then he looked again, paying careful attention to the dark areas. There were dimly lit areas, but none so dim that Fred thought even people dressed in black could hide in them.
The mayor arrived, “How’s your man?”
“Dead.”
“Sorry,” the Mayor said, sadly shaking his head.
“What’s going on with Romano’s guys?”
“All but one’s been shot in the head. Some of ‘em are still breathing, but I’m pretty sure they’re brain dead.”
“Romano too?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s the deal with the one who wasn’t shot in the head? Was he the one you were kicking?”
“No. I was kicking that son of a bitch Romano. God, I hated him! Sorry, I’m ashamed of myself now.”
The Boy Who Couldn’t Miss (Blind Spot #2) (Blind Spot Series) Page 19