Sam took a minute to get his bearings and then headed toward the truck that he and Jenny had driven up in a few nights before. The going was slow and his plan for escape began to fade in the snow-covered roads leading into the lodge. Dejected, he slogged through the snow to the main cabin and made his way to the dining room. Maybe a good breakfast was what he needed.
As he walked from the truck to the lodge, he looked up at the cabin he had escaped from the night before. He could see the outline of the roof in the distance but little else. Sam thought about Jenny and wondered if she knew he had defected yet. The thought of what she would do to him now sent shivers down his spine.
Inside the lodge he found it quiet and warm. Walking into the dining room, he found a table and looked over the breakfast menu. A waiter came over and took his order for orange juice and coffee, then retreated towards the kitchen. Looking over the menu, he was suddenly depressed at the out he had chosen. Dejected, he looked over the menu, no longer hungry. The waiter returned with his coffee and OJ. He asked if he was ready to order, but Sam waved him off, telling him he was fine for the moment.
He took time to ponder his next move. If the roads could be opened soon enough, he could flee and seek refuge in a warmer climate. But if not, maybe he could shack up with the blond from the night before.
Looking up, he caught the waiter’s eye and waved him back over. “Do you know if the roads are still closed?”
The waiter shook his head and said. “All of us stayed the night. Far as I know, all the roads are still closed.”
“Any idea when they might be opened?”
“Hard to say, but after last night’s weather, it’ll probably be tomorrow. The weatherman said round two is supposed to start later this morning.”
“Is there a service that can get me back into town?”
He shook his head, “Only if Mr. Washington calls in a ‘Helio’ for you. Other than that, you’re stuck until the roads are reopened. You sure you don’t want anything?”
Sam shook his head slowly.
“If you need anything, just holler,” the waiter said.
‘Well, this was a fine mess I’ve gotten myself into,’ he thought. All that work to get away and all he had to show for it was the parking lot. The thought of hiding in a cabin with Tina or Tonya or whichever, depressed him.
Taking his phone out, he debated whether or not to call Jenny. He had decided against it and was putting it back in his pocket when a hand reached out and snatched it from his hands. Surprised, he turned and looked back at the owner of the hand. The image that filled his eyes caused his bowels to let go. The urine spread across his lap and the feces fouled his pants and the air around him.
“Well, it’s not every day I get to meet a professional like myself on a morning like this,” Ronald said. “Mind if I join you?”
“Jesus, what are you doing here?” Sam asked.
“Same as you.”
“I’m out of it, so your beef isn’t with me.”
Ronald looked around for the waiter, then waved him over. “I’m just here for some breakfast, so you can relax. Who were you going to call anyway?”
Sam lowered his voice and said, “I’m not armed, so killing me won’t do you any good.”
Ronald raised his hand to quiet him as the waiter approached, “Just some coffee and eggs Benedict.”
The waiter nodded and moved off to fill his order.
When he was out of earshot Ronald said, “You tried to kill my best friend in a parking lot so whatever happens, just remember you have it coming to you in spades. But for now, relax and enjoy your coffee and orange juice. Play your cards right and you just might leave here alive. Now tell me about that cabin up the hill and the people in it.”
Two hours later, Ronald escorted Sam back to their cabin. When he had left, Walt had been in the process of getting dressed. Ronald grinned at the thought of Walt’s reaction of seeing Sam in their cabin. He knew Walt would probably lose some control so when he opened the door, Ronald called out gleefully, “Walt, I brought you a surprise!”
***
Seeing the hitman, who had been driving the car for the other hitman, standing in the door frame of our cabin came close to giving me a heart attack. The fact Ronald thought it was funny didn’t do a whole lot to alleviate my sudden onset of heartburn. I had been in my room, drying off from the shower, when I had heard Ronald call out.
After I picked myself up off the floor, I stared at the blond man who just yesterday Ronald had fired upon. I could see Ronald behind him, grinning broadly.
“Jesus, Ronald, what the rickets are you doing?”
“Just thought I’d bring my new friend Sam over to meet you face-to-face. It’ll give you an opportunity to get to know him, since he was so shy the last time you met.”
Sam walked over to the couch and sat down. I could tell his presence wasn’t his idea, but the fact Ronald had gotten him here without a gun or violence made me curious.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“I’m like him. Just doing what I was paid to do,” Sam said quietly.
“Now that’s not exactly true now, is it Sam?” Ronald asked sarcastically.
He shook his head but didn’t answer.
I looked over at Ronald and tried to read his expression. Unfortunately, a crooked grin was plastered across his face, masking his true thoughts. I turned my attention back to Sam and tried again.
“Give me a good reason not to handcuff you to the front door.”
Sam looked over his shoulder at Ronald and shrugged again, but didn’t speak.
Ronald, for his part, closed the door and walked over to Sam, then put a large black handgun against the back of his head. The grin was no longer in place and his eyes went black. He said in a low voice, “Go ahead Sam, and tell him what you told me.”
It took him a moment to compose his thoughts and then he told me everything. When he was finished, I looked over at Ronald and asked, “Are you going to really turn him loose?”
He shrugged. “Why not. He’s just a regular guy doing his job. It’s not personal for him. This girl, Jenny, is another story. As is Fritz, for that matter, but Sam here has seen the short side of his employer’s vision and has decided to move on.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I asked in exasperation.
“Wasn’t it you who told me nobody dies?”
“I said die, not get away scot-free.” I pointed at Sam and said, “He goes down for twenty-five years to life. That girl up there rides the needle into hell and her boss gets his ticket punched by the Feds. That’s the deal.”
Ronald looked over at Sam. “Well, I tried, but once he gets like that there is simply no talking to him. So I guess I hope you’re real fond of the color taupe or bright orange, because that’s what you’ll be wearing from now on.”
My eyes narrowed. My suspicions of his motives were running full throttle. I looked at his words, trying to figure out what the real meaning behind them was, “I’m serious, Ronald. This guy takes the weight for everything he’s done to me and everyone else he’s either tortured or killed.”
He looked over at me and nodded. “I heard you, Walter.”
“Now hold up a minute,” Sam yelled. “You said as long as I told this cop everything, you’d let me go. Now you're backing out of our deal?”
“Ronald, make sure he’s secure and not able to slip out after we leave.”
He nodded and then looked up at me. “Sure thing, boss,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I turned my attention back to Sam. “Now tell me all about this house.”
There was some literal arm-twisting but in the end, he did as we asked. Ronald jogged over to the main lodge for food and some notebook paper for Sam. The rest of the day went by faster than I could have imagined. As the floor plan of Fritz’s mountain retreat came out, a plan started to emerge. Knowing there would only be the two shooters inside gave both of us confidence. Knowing one of them was an executiv
e who probably had the will but not the training for this kind of exercise made both of us feel like we were kids again, riding our bikes along the canals and swift-running streams, fighting the good fight against pretend enemies.
That’s not to say we were overconfident. As a cop, I had seen bullets fired from trained killers miss by a country mile. I’d also seen the same gun in the hands of a child or an adult whose hands shook like a drunk coming off a three-day bender, and yet that bullet would find its mark every time. The thing about guns and bullets is, they don’t discriminate against experience. That old adage of lock and load, point and shoot, held true for all comers.
Ronald spent the entire day in deep concentration. When he had an idea or a question he was to the point and as professional as any cop I had ever known.
We went through the plans a dozen times, both of us stopping Sam when a detail he gave conflicted with something he had said previously. After we had gotten everything we felt we were going to get, Ronald put duct tape over his mouth and then hog-tied him. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were pulled so taut by the rope you could have played them like the strings on a guitar.
I took the plans and signaled Ronald to follow me into his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind him and I tossed the notes and drawings on the bed.
“You go first,” I said.
“The plans we drew out are pretty close to the square footage we can see from the outside. I think the back door I blew out is the best bet. However, since I figured that out, we can assume they have as well. Your turn.”
I scratched the back of my neck and then ran my hands over my face. “The back is the best and most obvious, so that’s out. Which leaves the front door. There are lots of windows there though, so that’s a problem. It’s safe to assume they don’t know we have Sam trussed up like a Christmas goose, so that concealed door on the west side of the house is where I think we go in.”
“After that, it’s just a few paces into the security room. We can knock out whatever is remaining of their security and either take more guns with us or block it off so they can’t use whatever is left inside, provided they haven’t emptied it out already.”
“There’s always the chance they’re waiting on the other side of the door. You know, like they're waiting for us to hit only to leave through that door. Maybe blow the house behind them.”
“He never talked about explosives and I’m pretty sure they don’t have any. But you're right, it’s a concern.”
“What’d you think? Light up the house and see what kind of response we get? Let the other one breach the house? Then come in after?”
Ronald ran a hand across his face as he looked down at the hand-drawn floor plans. The sound of his two-day beard echoed off the walls. “You cover and I’ll breach. I’ve got a bit more experience than you do.”
“Agreed. After we're in, it’s important we isolate Jenny away from Fritz. A guy like that may eat his own gun so getting to him quick will be a challenge, but really important. That said, whoever takes her does so in a non-lethal manner, if possible.”
“Walt, you need to come to grips with something. I know you want all of them to do hard time but the reality of it is when the lead starts flying, it lands where it lands. If she dies or he dies, so be it.”
“Jesus, Ronald, I was a cop long before I was a junior hitman. I know this. Trust me, I do.” My arm raised and I pointed at him. “That doesn’t get you off the hook if you unload on one of them just for the sake of killing them. Wound, yes – but no way should you try and kill from the outset. I mean it, Ronald.”
He nodded his agreement. The merriment of my words played across his face. I could tell my words had no effect. I knew that in truth, what I was asking of him and of myself was out of our control. It felt righteous to ask and it gave a voice to the last remnants of cop I had left inside me.
Sometimes the fool in our stories are played out by our good intentions, but in the end, it is the foolish gesture we give credence to that leads us to believe we are invincible against our own mortality. The blood I would spill would come at the expense of my own convictions I had laid to rest years ago when I rolled out in a black and white. My desert tan uniform I strapped on in Texas was the only armor I had that protected me against the fouled order of the downtrodden and unwashed masses I came into contact every day. Who was I to judge?
I looked at my watch. ‘Dark is coming soon,’ I thought. “You check the weather?”
“Nothing like yesterday, but a lot of wind blowing snow. What are you thinking?”
I blew out my breath and looked over at him. “We go tonight. Sam’s been gone since last night, so by now they know he’s gone. The roads will probably be open no later than noon tomorrow.” I started to pace the room. “If we wait much longer, they’re either going to be gone when we hit them or worst case scenario, we run into them on our way up. Having a firefight out in the open where somebody not involved gets hurt or killed is not something I want to even think about.” I stopped pacing and turned to face him.
Ronald looked down at the floor plans and back up at me. He nodded, then shook his head.
“What?”
“And here it was. I thought I was the crazy one. I’m ready to go now, but one last time, are you sure you’re ready for this?” His words dripping with sarcasm.
I shrugged, letting his tone go by and tilted my head towards the ceiling. “It’s all I was thinking about for the last couple of days,” I said quietly. Shaking my head, I looked back at him, “I hate this and I hate you for putting all of us in the path of destruction, but if I don’t do this now then Fritz walks away and he has to answer for what he’s done. So yeah, I’m ready.”
“It’s four now, so let’s say in an hour?”
I nodded. The implication of the actions I was agreeing to weighed heavily on my shoulders and my conscience. “One hour.”
I spent the next hour getting ready for what I had hoped would be the last chapter in this saga. The winter clothing Ronald had picked for me was the right size, which was a relief. I loaded both of the Glocks with hollow points and the MP5 Ronald had given me, all the while thinking about how much had happened over the last week.
I was almost killed; twice. Ronald had made me an accessory to the attack on the hitman he had killed and the one who had tried killing me. I was a wanted fugitive for murder, and now kidnapping. Lori and Earl were both dead, my kids no longer had a mother. I had beaten a man almost to death. And the worst part? I knew both Cassandra and Thomas would grow up without either parent. I had no doubt I would either be hauled off to prison shortly after this was over or I would join Lori in the afterlife.
The anger I felt for both Ronald and Fritz Washington was palpable. Both men had ensnared a lot of people in a blood feud nobody but them had any interest in waging. Dejectedly, I sat down on the bed and picked up the burner phone Ronald had given me. On the back of the phone, he had taped a SIM card. The one inside the phone was clean because it had never been used. I knew from my time on the force that it was traceable if someone was looking, which I assumed they were. The only way it could be trapped and then tracked was if I used it to call someone whose line was tapped.
I thought about Marcie and her father. The life we could have shared seemed distant or more like a fantasy. In the next hours, I could be dead or in cuffs. Opening the phone, I punched in Jessica’s number and let it ring. On the third ring, she answered.
Her voice was quiet and tentative. “Hello,” she said.
“Hey sis, it’s me, your brother, Walt. How are you doing?”
“Walter!” she yelled.
“I can’t talk long. But I need to speak with the kids. It’s important. Don’t worry about the guys in suits standing behind you. Just put them on, will you?” I asked quietly.
In my mind, I could see her shaking her head. “That’s not a good idea. Both of them are in bad shape.”
“Jess, please. Just this one time don’t argue with m
e. Please put them on.”
I heard her put the phone down and talk to someone in the background. A minute later I heard my daughter’s voice for the first time in weeks. “Daddy, when are you coming home?”
My voice caught when I tried to speak. Clearing my throat, I tried again, “Hey Cassie, it’s daddy. You doing okay?”
Her voice broke and I could hear crying loudly into the phone. “Mommy’s gone. She’s in heaven with Earl.”
“I know, honey, It’s a bad time. I just wanted you to know I love you.”
She lost it. Her sobs rattled me and the loathing I felt was worse than it had ever been. I cried along with her, telling her how much I missed her and how we would soon be seeing each other. But it didn’t do any good. Her cries cut me deeply. Each sob was like a knife slicing through me. Several minutes later, I asked her to put her brother on the line.
Thomas was my son through and through. But on this day all he wanted was his mother back. I tried over and over to soothe him with my own cries, but it didn’t work. In the end, I told both of them how much I loved them and how we would soon all be together.
Jessica’s voice came over the line. “Well, just so you know, you’ve created a lot of excitement over here.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I did. Jessica, this is all going to be over very soon. No matter what happens, promise me you’ll take care of them, would you?”
“Walter, what are you doing? This isn’t like you.”
I shrugged into the phone. “I guess you could say that stone was cast a while back. Love you, sis. Take care,” I said as I closed the phone.
After I composed myself, I called Marcie. Her phone rang several times before she picked up.
“Hey Marce, long time no hear.”
“Jesus, Walt, where are you?”
“I’m sure the men in black standing over your shoulder can tell you. But never mind that, how you doing?”
“I’m fine Walt. Is Ronald with you?”
“I’ll give you this Marce, you’re a good cop. Don’t ever let them tell you different.”
On The Devil's Side of Heaven Page 38