After four years of sleepless nights, grieving, and built up hatred, G-Baby had avenged his son, Gabe Jr.
Again, Michelle had her sister’s revenge, but she didn’t have time to focus on it. Nikky, her row dog, lay on the floor. Her life could be in the balance of lost minutes.
Thirty-Five: Home Run
“I HEAR SIRENS,” Tuan said.
Michelle checked her watch. It had been less than nine minutes since the first shots were fired in the lobby. The police response was a little fast. But not too much. They should have enough time.
“Tuan, where are you?” Michelle asked.
“In the parking garage,” he replied.
“Is anyone on the stairs?”
“I didn’t see anyone on the way down.”
“Nikky’s hurt bad, but alive. We’re bringing her down,” she said.
Trevon and Deja had Nikky out of the chair. Deja had the neck brace out of her pack and was putting it on Nikky. Trevon cut the tape binding her hands behind her back.
Michelle grabbed Trevon’s arm, getting his attention. “Tape her hands back together in front.”
Deja looked up, tears running down her cheeks, her brow wrinkled in a question.
“It’ll keep them from flopping around when we move her,” Michelle said.
Deja nodded and closed the Velcro straps securing the neck brace.
Trevon had the tape off Nikky’s wrists and brought her hands around in front. Nikky moaned.
Michelle leaned down next to Nikky on the floor. “We’ve got you, sweetheart. Deja and me, we’ve got you now. You’re safe. We’re taking you out of here now. You hang on.”
Nikky moaned. It wasn’t clear if she heard or not. It didn’t matter.
“You guys bring her down in the elevator. I’m going down the stairs.” Michelle took a deep breath, blew it out and with a last glance at Nikky, ran toward the stairwell. The sound of sirens drifted through the shattered window.
Michelle stepped through the door into the stairwell and fired three shots into the wall. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
That should keep any curious lookie-loos behind their doors.
Short moments and many stairs later, Michelle ran across the underground parking garage. A square grate, a bit over four feet across, leaned against the wall. It came off the entrance of a three foot wide tunnel. Bunches of electrical cables and conduits and water supply pipes ran back through the top of the passageway.
Six feet back inside, Brandon lay on his stomach, face out. Tuan squatted at the opening. Between them they had unfolded a blue plastic tarp.
“Any trouble coming through?” Michelle asked.
“No. It’s tight in places, but okay,” Brandon replied.
In the week before Ascia left for Europe, Michelle had studied every blueprint of the building’s infrastructure she could find. She also studied blueprints of the storm drains, sewage, and electrical pipe system of the area. This pipe led to the major conduit that had branches to most of the larger buildings in the area. They picked the underground parking of a building on the next street for their connection.
Earlier, while everyone flew out from California, Michelle had checked the openings to the conduits. As she expected, the grates were bolted, not welded. They needed to be bolted so maintenance workers could get in. But, without getting inside the system, she didn’t know if it would connect. Or, if they could move all the way through.
Brandon looked up. “It’s good. There’s nothing in the way. A couple turns, but there’s enough room that it should be okay. We can easily slide her along on the tarp to the other end. When will they be here?”
Before Michelle could answer, Trevon came around the corner of the elevator. He had Nikky in his arms. Deja and G-Baby came behind him. G-Baby limped badly. They both walked backwards, facing the ramp leading to the street. Their alert eyes told the story, the guns in their hands were punctuation.
Tuan and Michelle moved out of the way. With Brandon’s help Trevon gently laid Nikky on the tarp. Brandon immediately scooted back into the small tunnel. He pulled Nikky as he went. Trevon followed. Deja came next then G-Baby. Tuan crawled backwards into the opening. Michelle pulled the heavy metal grate over to the pipe at an angle like an open door. Then she wiggled in backwards. She was half on top of Tuan, half beside him.
Together they dragged the grate over in front of the opening. “It’ll be clumsy but we can do this. Lift it high enough to put the top bolts though the holes. It’ll hang there while we put the nuts back on,” Tuan said.
While he explained how they were going to put the grate back in place, the first police cars, sirens blaring, arrived. There was still time, if they didn’t drop the grate.
The grate was heavy and awkward. They were not used to working as a physical team. With surprising accuracy, they muscled the grate in place. On the first try, they slipped the grate onto the two bolts sticking out of the facing.
Two more police sirens arrived on the street out front.
Michelle pulled back with all her strength holding the grate in place. Tuan reached through the holes to thread the big nuts on the top bolts.
More sirens. A lot more.
Michelle looked out across the parking area. She saw the top of a SWAT van pull up, blocking the drive. From her angle, she couldn’t see the back doors of the van. She didn’t need to see it to imagine the SWAT team jumping out and lining up across the front of the building next door.
“Okay, got them. Move so I can reach the bottom bolts,” Tuan said.
Without a word, Michelle scooted back into the dark tunnel. A moment later, she heard Tuan edging toward her. They both crawled backwards through the tunnel toward the others and freedom.
They replaced the grate on the utility tunnel at the other end and walked out of the maintenance room into the underground parking. The Suburban and Nissan sat waiting, exactly where they were parked earlier that morning.
“G-Baby’s shot, so he’s going with us,” Michelle said. “Trevon, you and Brandon head back to L.A. I’ll catch up with you in a day or two.” She gave both men a hug and kiss on the lips. “Thank you.”
The beige Nissan turned right out of the parking ramp. Two minutes later, Michelle turned her gray Suburban left out of the same ramp.
Headed South on the freeway, Michelle put her phone on speaker and called Miss Betty. “We got her. She’s with us right now. We’re all okay,” Michelle said.
“How bad is she?” Miss Betty asked.
“Beat bad. Fading in an out of consciousness. Her face is a mess, a lot of teeth are broken. One eye is swollen shut. The other is puffed-up pretty bad, but she tracked with it and recognized Deja so she can see okay.”
“What does her pupil look like? Miss Betty asked.
Michelle spoke over her shoulder to the back, “Hey, Deja, Miss Betty asked what does Nikky’s eye look like?”
“It’s normal, reactive to light. She doesn’t look like she has a bad concussion,” Deja said.
“Did you get that?” Michelle asked, then added, “She’s probably got a bunch of broken ribs. Deja said her lungs are clear so nothing is punctured.”
“Yes, I got it. I can hear everything. Does Deja know nursing?” Miss Betty asked.
“No. Her mom is a nurse and has been teaching her some basics to help with the girls.”
“Is she awake?” Miss Betty asked.
“Yeah, she woke up a few minutes ago. Deja put in a saline drip, and gave her some Tylenol. She’s resting now.”
“That’s good. Keep her awake. The Tylenol is good, but don’t give her any aspirin,” Miss Betty said.
“We’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”
Michelle turned to G-Baby and held out the phone. “Your turn. Keep it on speaker so we can all talk.”
“I’d rather wait until we get there,” he said.
“You could; it’d be pretty dumb,” Michelle said. “You know you’re okay, but Baby-Sister is sitting on pins and needles wo
rried about your ass. Please, Uncle G, call her.”
“Women!” G-Baby said.
Michelle reached over and swiped Baby-Sister’s name on her phone.
Baby-Sister answered on the first ring.
“We’re in the car, everyone is okay, you’re on speaker, here’s Uncle G,” Michelle said.
“We got her. We’re all alright,” G-Baby said. “We’re taking her down to Galveston.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” Baby-Sister said. “Thank you Jesus, Thank you Jes— Wait. Why are you going down to Galveston?”
“I’m going to stay out here for an extra few days with the girls to make sure everything’s good.”
“Bullshit, G. What’s going on?”
“Well, I sorta got winged a little.”
“Oh shit! What’s a little?”
“It’s a small shot in the leg.”
“Where in the leg? How bad? Did it hit the bone? Can you walk? Is it bleeding bad?”
“No, no, no, let me tell you. Okay?”
“Alright, but you better not give me no bullshit. I can tell if you do.”
“I got shot in the calf. The bullet went through. It hurts bad, but I can move on it so nothing is broken. There ain’t no blood pumping, meaning no artery has been hit. I’m shot, but it’ll be okay. I’ve been shot before, and this isn’t any worse than that time.”
“You’re not going to a hospital, not this time, so why not come on home where I can take care of you?”
“I think I’ll stick here for a few days. Just to make sure everyone is okay.”
“Bullshit G., goddammit, I said don’t you bullshit me. And here you go lying to me. No shot leg should keep you off a plane soon as it’s cleaned up. What’s really wrong? You better tell me the truth or I’ll shoot your dumb ass myself.”
“Alright Honey, this is the truth, my leg is shot like I said. I also got shot in the ass.”
“How bad?”
“Not bad. A good crease on one side. The problem is, I can’t sit right, so I can’t fly.”
“G, I swear, I don’t know what to do with you sometimes. I just thank God you’re okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, honey, I’m going to stay a few days until I can fly,” G-Baby said.
“I heard you fine,” Baby-Sister said. “I’m catching the early flight in the morning. I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. And, G, honey, don’t try to argue with me, you’ll only lose. You’d be a lot smarter to agree and let it look like your idea all along.”
“Amazing,” G-Baby said, “that’s exactly what I was thinking. See you tomorrow.”
Michelle ended the call. “Well played, Uncle G. You are even smarter than I thought.”
“Sheeiitt, I’m not smart, but hell, Stevie could see I was beat on that one,” G-Baby said.
“Hey Michelle, call PJ for me. I promised I’d call as soon as we knew anything,” Deja said.
“Sup?” PJ answered her phone.
“Hey PJ, this is Michelle, you’re on speaker, Deja is in the back with Nikky. She wanted to talk to you.”
“We got her. We’re all okay.” Deja yelled from the back.
“That’s good to hear,” PJ said.
“I’ll be another day before I can make it back,” Deja said. “You good for one more day?”
“Not a problem. Stay longer if you need to.”
“Thanks. I may take you up on that, but for now it looks like I’ll be able to catch the redeye out tomorrow night. Let everybody know I’ll be checking their money against what they made before. If they’re short, I’ll be busting their asses.”
“Word already got around about how Latoya’s out and how it was you that kicked her to the curb,” PJ said. “You got no grief coming from none of the girls. Everybody’s gonna do right.”
Thirty-Six: Ramifications
“GOOD EVENING, MISS ANGELIQUE,” Mr. Jones said. “I’m watching live news coverage on a story breaking in Houston. Apparently there has been a dramatic gang style, or, wait, they are saying a military style assault on a known criminal headquarters. Early reports suggest it’s the biggest news of a criminal war style homicide event since the Valentine’s Day Massacre.”
“What channel are you on?” Michelle asked.
“CBS Houston.”
Michelle flicked the channels until she found CBS Houston. A serious Asian Woman spoke in hushed tones. “To recap, we are live in Houston where a Valentine’s Day style massacre has apparently taken place. The police won’t confirm, but we saw them take out at least six, maybe eight bodies from the lobby of the Sam Callelo building. Again, it is unconfirmed. The massacre continued up on the seventh floor.” The camera shot left the face of the woman and zoomed in on glass covering the sidewalk then tilted up to the top of the building where a large gaping hole stood silent witness to the earlier violence.
“I assume this is your handiwork?”
“Yes, the operation was a success,” Michelle said.
“Mr. Ascia?” Jones asked.
“He’ll be listed among those lost.”
“I also assume, reporting on your success is not why you called. What can I do for you?” Jones asked.
“Two things, I need a doctor for one of my people. A woman. They had her and we got her out, but not before she was badly beaten.”
“I am in touch with such a person. Where do you want me to send him?”
“Check the chat, I’ll post the address. How soon can you send him?”
“Within the hour,” Mr. Jones said.
In the background the newscaster said, “Here they come! These are the first people to be evacuated. Apparently innocent people were trapped in their offices on floors two through six during the ordeal. The police have held them inside for over two hours, not letting anyone in or out.” Michelle hit the mute button shutting the woman up.
“The other thing I called about is the women. Did they arrive?”
“Yes, we have them. Your Miss Jelena has proven to be of valuable assistance. I appreciate your thoughtfulness in sending her with the others.”
“We cleaned house with Ascia’s crew, but there is still one left. He’s the one who killed my girl in Anglewatts.”
“Are you speaking of Jack-Move?” Jones asked.
“Have your people seen him?”
“No, but we’re watching.”
“He and I have unfinished business. I’d appreciate a head’s-up from your people if they spot him.”
“That’s an unusual request from a professional. People in your business usually want to be paid handsomely to remove other people’s problems,” Jones said.
“We both know this is good business for both of us. My occupation is in transition as I take on a larger role with prostitution in Anglewatts. I can’t allow this guy to live. It’s business, not personal. No matter how it happens, he has to be removed from the equation. Of course it will send a stronger message if I take care of it myself.”
“You’re saying it’s business?” Mr. Jones asked.
“Of course, it’s business. But business is only an added benefit. For me, it’s deeply personal.” Michelle took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “He killed one of my girls. I’ll get my revenge. You’re watching what happens when someone messes with my family.”
“I see,” Mr. Jones said.
“I rather imagine you do. Tell me, how do you react when someone hurts your family?”
“Swiftly and strenuously; never as public as what you have done here, but just as decisively. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Jones asked.
“No. I think we have everything covered,” Michelle responded.
“What about Mr. Galletti? I haven’t heard him mentioned on the news.”
“I don’t know anything about Mr. Galletti.”
“Mr. Galletti was before your time. He’s an older gentleman, Italian, originally from one of the East coast families. He’s in his 80s.”
“There wasn’t anybody like that at Asc
ia’s. Is he important?”
“He used to be. He was Ascia’s boss and mentor. He stepped down a few years ago and put Ascia into his place. I doubt he got out, not completely. He may decide it’s time to get back into the action. If he does or doesn’t, he still could choose to get even.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. What about you? Do you have an interest in Houston?”
“No. My business model works well locally. I don’t care to go national. What about you or your friend, the lawyer, Mr. Trevon Moore?”
“What about Trevon?”
“Word is he took over drugs in Anglewatts. It’s also said he has no interest in your business with the prostitutes. Will he move into Houston? It is a larger city than Anglewatts, after all.”
“He’d have to speak for himself. My guess is I don’t think so. My understanding is a local group will expand.”
“I trust you had something to do with assisting this local group?”
“I can’t speak with any real knowledge to that,” Michelle said. “The word is, they’re rather private about who they will, and won’t work with. However, I suspect they will dramatically increase their presence.”
“I see.”
A new force could be felt in the underworld business. Before, Mr Jones was the employer and held all the cards. Now, he and Michelle were moving toward equal footing. It had all started by Ascia’s order to kill her brother, and had come full circle with Ascia’s death with the end at a very different place than the beginning.
The long four years since her brother’s murder had changed Michelle into a person much better, much worse, and mostly much different than she ever expected. Who she had become, her mind, heart, and core being had been molded by the journey of time, untold risks, constant focused training, thousands of miles, and by the many deaths that brought her here today.
* * *
The bedroom door stood wide open; Michelle read quietly while Nikky slept. She heard the doorbell ring and Miss Betty moving around downstairs to answer the door.
Hard Win: Action Adventure Pulp Thriller Book #3 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series) Page 21