by Peter Ralph
Tony Lombardi, dressed in all black, climbed down from the top of the flybridge and hid behind the bulkhead at the front of the boat. He knew the next man to come up the stairs would be Borchard’s right-hand man, Dirk Vaughan, and that he would be far more cautious than the two dead members of his gang. About five minutes had elapsed before Vaughan shouted, “Ahmet, Farik, what are you doing? If this is a joke, I’ll have your balls.”
Lombardi watched as Vaughan came out on the deck, pistol drawn and edged toward the flashlight at the stern. Lombardi moved like a cat, and as he shoved the barrel of the Glock hard into Vaughan’s back, he whispered, “Don’t move or your dead. Pass me your gun and don’t get any funny ideas. I’m using hollow points and from this range they’ll tear you apart.”
“Who are you?” Vaughan asked as Lombardi threw his gun into the sea.
“You don’t need to know,” Lombardi replied while he patted Vaughan down. “A derringer and a switchblade. You came well prepared.”
“Dirk,” Borchard shouted, “what’s taking you so long? Is everything all right?”
“Answer,” Lombardi hissed, “tell him everything’s okay.”
“It’s fine, Brock. We’ll be down in a minute,” Vaughan replied. He never called Borchard by his first name, always boss.
Lombardi threw the derringer and switchblade overboard and then pushed Vaughan to the stern near Farik’s body. “Take a good look at where your man’s head’s meant to be. That’s what a hollow point does. When we go downstairs, you’ll have your arms at your sides. Try anything and I’ll blow your guts out.”
Vaughan edged downstairs with the Glock pressed hard into his back. Lombardi looked over Vaughan’s shoulder and saw Borchard standing behind Vanessa with a knife to her throat. She was naked from the waist up and tied to a chair. Todd was in the chair next to her. He looked like he was dead.
“Don’t take another step,” Borchard said or the girl’s dead. “Who are you?”
“So you tipped him off,” Lombardi said, dropping the Glock behind Vaughan’s right knee and pulling the trigger.
Vaughan screamed in agony and then blacked out. His leg was just a bloody stump. Lombardi shoved him hard down the stairs, and his head crashed into the floor.
Borchard was hiding behind Vanessa and Lombardi couldn’t get a clean shot. “Is the kid still alive?”
“Yes, but he’s lost a lot of blood,” Vanessa said as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Shut the fuck up,” Borchard said, punching her in the head.
“You’re lucky he’s still alive. He’s the only reason I’m here. He’s your one bargaining chip. He dies, you’re dead. Oh, you asked me who I was. I’m one of Mr. Arturo’s helpers and the kid’s one of his friends. Providing he lives, you can still walk off this boat alive.”
“I’ll kill his girlfriend if you get one step closer,” Borchard said, pressing the knife hard into Vanessa’s neck. “Now drop the gun or I’ll slash her throat.”
Lombardi laughed and pointed the Glock directly at Vanessa. “Do you think Mr. Arturo cares about her? He doesn’t know her. He couldn’t care less. I ought to put a bullet through her myself. You know what it’ll do, don’t you? It’ll still be expanding and releasing energy when it goes through her tiny waist. When it hits your guts, it’ll blow it into a thousand pieces. You’ve got your knife under the wrong throat.”
Vanessa’s sobbing was the only sound in the cabin. If Borchard didn’t kill her, the other man would.
Lombardi appeared to lower his eyes as Vaughan stirred. Borchard saw his opportunity and flung himself the three feet to Todd’s chair with his knife outstretched. Lombardi knew a head shot would be too risky, but Borchard’s body was an easy target and the bullet hit him in the middle of the chest. Blood and guts spewed from the jagged hole in his back and splattered all over the wall. Vanessa screamed hysterically as blood, and bone fragments sprayed all over her.
Lombardi soaked a towel in water and began gently cleaning Vanessa’s body while he spoke soothingly to her. “Miss,” he said, “you’re safe. I was never going to shoot you, but I had to say something to make Borchard move. Mr. Arturo likes your boyfriend, and he told me I had to rescue both of you.”
Vanessa was gasping and struggling to get control. She jumped when Lombardi took off his t-shirt and bent down to pick up the knife.
“Miss, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to cut you loose, and you can put this on,” he said, dropping his t-shirt on her lap. “Take deep breaths. Try and get control. I know it’s not easy. Sit there until you feel like getting up and then do it slowly. I’m going to cut Todd free.”
“Who-who are you? How did you get here?”
“Tony Lombardi. I met Todd in Castlebrough. I’m not alone. Neri,” he shouted, “it’s all clear. See if you can find a stretcher. Tell Bruno to get ready to kick the Zodiac over.”
“Oh, you’re Tony Lombardi,” Vanessa said. “Todd told me about you.”
Lombardi carefully cut Todd’s bindings away and put two fingers on his neck. “His pulse is feeble, and he’s lost a lot of blood. We have to get him to a hospital before it’s too late, but the pain of moving him might be more than he can bear. We can’t stay here.”
“They-they had ether,” Vanessa said. “Would that help?”
“Yes,” Lombardi replied, patting down Borchard’s pockets. “He hasn’t got it.”
“Maybe they left it in the car,” Vanessa said.
“No, I’ve got it,” Lombardi said, pulling a small bottle of ether out of a pocket of Vaughan’s jacket before putting his foot on him and rolling him over.
Vaughan groaned, and Vanessa got shakily to her feet and asked, “Are you going to help him?”
“No,” Lombardi replied. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll either bleed out or drown. I don’t care which. Get some movement back in your limbs and then see if you can clean Todd up. It’ll save the paramedics a few minutes and might be vital. Hopefully, it won’t take long for Neri to find a stretcher.”
Lombardi bounded up the stairs. Todd was in a far worse way than he had let on to Vanessa. The Zodiac was tied up to the cabin cruiser, and Bruno was waiting. “Bruno, get back to the boat and tell the captain to moor hard against us. Get him to send a hospital helicopter to meet us when we reach shore.”
Bruno kicked the oars out of the way, and a moment later the roar of the Zodiac’s motor broke the stillness of the night.
There was an extensive medicine cabinet on the flybridge and Neri found a portable stretcher at the bottom of it. Then they rushed down the stairs. Time was not on Todd’s side. Vanessa had cleaned him up as best she could, and he was mumbling incoherently. Lombardi unfolded the stretcher on the floor and told Vanessa to soak a cloth with ether and hold it over Todd’s nose for five seconds. With great care, Lombardi picked him up in his arms and gently placed him on the stretcher. “Sit down, miss,” he said. “Our boat’s going to be tying up soon and we might get quite a thump.”
A few minutes later they heard the deep, slow throb of powerful engines and felt a gentle bump. “Our captain’s very skilled,” Lombardi said. “Miss, you can go up on deck and wait for us. Neri, take the front of the stretcher and be very careful.”
Bruno was standing on the deck of a dark blue cabin cruiser. Lombardi and Neri balanced the stretcher on the rails of the two boats and then pushed it over to Bruno and the captain. “Can you climb over, miss, or would you like us to help you?”
“I’ll be fine,” Vanessa said, scrambling over the rails.
“Bruno,” Lombardi shouted, “grab your tool box and join us.”
“The young man needs urgent medical attention,” the captain said.
“We’ll only be a few minutes,” Lombardi said. “Come on, Neri, let’s get the bodies below deck.”
As they dragged Vaughan up the stairs, he groaned, and Neri said, “He’s still alive.”
“So?”
“Nothing.”
“I
f you want to be merciful and put a bullet in his head, do it,” Lombardi said.
Bruno joined them and helped push Vaughan under the deck. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Two charges. Set them to explode in ten minutes. I want minimal or no flame. Just make sure they’re powerful enough to sink this thing. I’m going to have one last check before we push off. Neri, tie the runabout up behind our boat.”
The galley and the adjoining saloon were a complete mess. Blood and bone fragments covered the floor and walls. Lombardi stared around the room and saw Vanessa’s torn blouse and bra on the floor. He left them there. They would fit perfectly with the story she would tell.
Chapter 60
Todd was still on the stretcher on a double bed in one of the cruiser’s bedrooms. He hadn’t regained consciousness, and Vanessa was holding a damp cloth on his forehead. They were about two miles from the marina when she heard two deep, distinct booms. “What was that?” she asked.
“The sinking of the Sea Folly,” Lombardi replied. “Now listen to me. When the FBI questions you, tell them everything that occurred until you lost consciousness.”
“I never lost consciousness.”
“Yes, you did. You never saw me or my men. You never saw this boat. The captain’s just cut the runabout loose. I’m going to tell the helicopter pilot and medics that we found you and Todd in it unconscious and that you haven’t regained consciousness.”
Vanessa looked puzzled. “I don’t understand?”
“I’m sorry. I’m going to have to give you a dose of ether. You’ll be out for about fifteen minutes. It’s important that your last memory before blacking out is being tortured.”
“Bu-but they’re going to want to know how we got away. What am I going to say?”
“The same as what Todd says.”
“But he doesn’t know,” Vanessa said, and then, “Oh, I see.”
“I can’t afford to let anyone see this boat. We’re going to have to take the Zodiac,” Lombardi said, pouring some ether on a hand towel. “Are you ready?”
“I suppose I have to be.”
“Bruno,” Lombardi shouted, “get the Zodiac ready. Neri, bring the stretchers down.”
Five minutes later the Zodiac motored into the foreshore. The helicopter was in a grass clearing about seventy yards away. Lombardi and Neri carried Todd up the beach where two medics took the stretcher and loaded it on the copter. One of them started attending to Todd immediately. “He’s in a bad way,” he shouted over the noise of the rotors. “What happened?”
“Dunno,” Lombardi shouted back, pulling the captain’s hat down over his forehead. “They haven’t regained consciousness since we found them floating around in a small boat.”
“We’ll get the other one,” the medic said, signaling the pilot to come and help. “You’ll have to make a report to the police you know.”
“Of course,” Lombardi said.
“They must be important,” the medic said. “We were told to drop everything and get down here. They must be rich kids.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Ten minutes into the flight, Vanessa woke up. She was strapped down, and Todd was next to her. “Where am I?” she asked.
“You’re in a medical helicopter, miss. Don’t worry, you’re in safe hands. What happened to you?”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“She’s drifted off again,” the medic said to his partner. “She’s got some bruising on the face and cuts and scratches. Compared to the guy she got off light.”
“You don’t know what trauma she went through,” the other medic said. “They were both found unconscious. I don’t think she got off lightly.”
He’s got broken hands and fingers, a thumbnail ripped out, broken ribs, shattered kneecaps and a broken jaw and cheekbones. He’ll walk again, but he’ll never regain full use of his legs.”
“That’s if he wakes up.”
“What type of animal does something like this?”
There was a helipad on the top of Saint Michael’s Mercy Hospital, and doctors and nurses were waiting to rush Todd into the O.R. They wheeled Vanessa into a consulting room where she was given a full examination. “I’m fine,” she protested. “I just need a hot shower. When will we know if Todd’s going to be all right?”
“You’ve had a severe blow to your face. It’s quite swollen,” the doctor said. “There’s nothing broken though. Is Todd your boyfriend?”
Vanessa paused. “Yes,” she said. “He’s very brave. How is he doing?”
“He’s in the hands of the finest surgeons. We’re going to have to wait until he comes out of the O.R. We have a private room for you where you can shower and get some sleep.”
“No, I’m waiting until the surgery is finished. I need to know that he’s okay.”
“That won’t help anyone,” the doctor said. “I’m going to give you a mild sedative to help you sleep.”
“What a mess,” a young surgeon said, as he hovered over Todd. “What could he have done to deserve this?”
“That’s not our worry,” the lead surgeon replied as the anesthetist gently inserted a tube into Todd’s throat.
The young surgeon made a linear incision over the front of the kneecap and blood erupted. “Swab,” he said to the nurse.
“Beethoven’s 5th,” the lead surgeon said to another nurse, and a moment later the music of the master flooded the operating room.
“It’s worse than what we thought,” the young surgeon said. “There are a lot of small fragments. I hope we have better luck with the other knee.”
Ten hours later Todd was wheeled out of the O.R. and into intensive care. Todd’s parents had already questioned and sympathized with Vanessa. She and her parents held back when his father approached the surgeons. The lead surgeon didn’t know him but had seen his picture and read his papers in medical magazines. They spoke in hushed tones for a few minutes and then Todd’s father rested his hand on the surgeon’s shoulder and said, “Thank you, doctor. It was fortunate that the paramedics brought him to Saint Michael’s. I know of your work with the reconstruction of faces.”
“Please, call me Chris,” the doctor said. “His face, hands, and ribs will heal, but he’ll need to learn to walk again and God knows what psychological damage he suffered. He’s going to be with us for quite some time.”
“Thank you, Chris,” Todd’s mother said. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks were stained.
Vanessa had been standing behind the Hansen’s listening. “Doctor,” she asked, “when will he recover from the anesthesia? When will I be able to see him?”
“Within the hour I’d expect,” he said, “but he’s going to be dopey. I’d leave it until tomorrow. He should be out of IC by then.”
Vanessa was about to ask another question when they were interrupted by a nurse, “Miss Hodge,” she said, “Detective Grinich from the FBI is here. He’d like to see you.”
“We’ll come with you,” her mother said.
“He’ll want to see me by myself, mom. Why don’t you and dad grab coffee in the cafeteria? I won’t be long, and then you can take me home.”
Grinich’s clothes were rumpled, and it looked like he hadn’t slept. “How do you feel, Vanessa? Are you okay?”
She could tell by his tone that he wasn’t genuinely interested in her health but was dying to know what had happened. “I’m all right,” she said, “but Todd’s in a bad way.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. We were up all night trying to find you. What happened after you left that hamburger joint? That’s when we lost you.”
Vanessa related everything that occurred until she lost consciousness.
“The medics said that two guys brought you to shore in a Zodiac. Do you remember anything about that?”
“No, they told me the same thing. They said that one of the guys said they found us unconscious and floating around in a small boat. I don’t understand. Have you spoken to them?”
&nb
sp; “The paramedics said that your rescuers were going to file a report with the police, but no one’s heard a word from them. Don’t you think that’s strange?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they just didn’t want to get involved?”
“Weren’t you wearing one of their t-shirts?”
“I guess it must have been, but I have no recollection of putting it on.”
“Yeah,” Grinich said looking skeptical. “Tell me the names of your kidnappers again.”
“As I said I only heard their first names. Brock, Farik, Dirk, and Ahmet. Brock was their leader. Do you know them?”
“Yeah, I know them. They’re called the Serbian Mafia. Don’t worry, we’ll get them and when we do they’ll be going away for twenty years. I’m still confused about how you got away. Do you remember getting into that runabout?”
“I’ve already told you. No, I can’t.”
“Concentrate! Think! You either got in yourself or someone put you in it. Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Todd will be able to tell you after the anesthesia’s worn off.”
“Yeah, yeah. They won’t let me talk to him until tomorrow. Vanessa, I’m sorry about what happened to you, but I promise you we’ll get these guys.”
No, you won’t. “I hope so,” Vanessa said.
The following day, Vanessa was at the hospital just after 9 A.M. and was pleased to find that doctors had moved Todd from IC to a private room. The nurses said that he had awoken in the early evening, and while he was incoherent they had managed to get some orange juice and cereal into him. Vanessa entered his room quietly not wanting to disturb him if was asleep. He wasn’t and smiled then grimaced in pain when he saw her. His lower face was heavily dressed, and his hands swathed in bandages. “It hurts to smile,” he said in a raspy voice. “I’ve been racking my brain. How did we get away?”
If I tell you, you might slip up with Grinich. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. I was hoping you might be able to tell me.”
“It’s a mystery,” he said. “I felt so sorry for getting you involved. I was certain they were going to kill us. I wonder why they changed their minds.”