Sotello: Detective, ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 1)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Hey,” Sotello wheezed finally. “Craig ain’t… going to… like you touching me… like this.”

  “You Dufus,” Sykes whispered. “Can you ease yourself up into the limo? We need to get out of range.”

  “If the shooter wanted to tap me a few more times, I’d be getting nailed right through you,” Sotello croaked, as he got an elbow underneath him, and pushed up to a sitting position.

  “Just get in,” Sykes ordered, “and you can tell me all about it later.”

  Sotello twisted around. He pulled himself up into the limo with Sykes pushing, and the driver pulling. Sykes scrambled in behind Sotello, after telling Phillips to run around the limo, and to stay low. By the time Phillips reached the other side of the limo, diving in the open passenger door, Danny had reentered the driver’s side, and had it ready to go. He sped off the moment Phillips closed his door. Sirens were already nearing the scene as the limo moved.

  “How bad, Jim?” Sykes asked, as she leaned over the now prone Sotello, who was still having trouble getting his breath.

  “Good thing it was still dark,” Sotello rasped painfully. “The shooter hit me dead center, but at least he didn’t go for the head. My vest took the brunt of it, but he nailed me right in the sternum with the second shot.”

  Sotello painfully pushed himself up to a sitting position, and allowed Sykes and Phillips to help him take off his mangled trench coat and suit jacket. He had to pause, while he caught his breath again. After a couple of minutes, he leaned over, and told Lau to stop the limo.

  “We need to get you checked at a hospital, even if you aren’t full of holes,” Phillips said, his voice shaking.

  “Help me get this shirt and tie off. We’ll decide then whether the hospital necessary. My chest hurts, but that’s all.”

  They helped him off with his shirt and tie. The vest he wore beneath sported two indentations, one right over Sotello’s heart, and the other in the center of his chest. After they removed his vest and t-shirt, they surveyed the damage. Although the bullets had not punctured the vest, Sotello’s whole upper chest area was black and blue, radiating from the centers of where the bullets hit.

  “You might be bleeding internally Jim,” Sykes said, probing his chest area gently with her hands.

  “Unlikely Jan,” Sotello grunted, as Sykes pressed the bruised area, feeling for obvious chest cage damage. “We better get back to the scene.”

  “I called 911,” Phillips said. “That’s what all the sirens are about. I guess I better call them back and tell them where we are.”

  While Phillips called in to 911 again, Sykes called, and woke up Hank Janowitz to tell him what had happened. Sotello felt his chest, while moving around to assess the damage. Sykes pushed her cell phone at him. Sotello took it reluctantly, knowing what to expect.

  “Get your butt to a hospital Jim, and stay put,” Hank ordered over the phone. “I’ll get a helicopter out of SF with my team, and we’ll meet you there.”

  “Come ahead Hank, but I ain’t missing this debate. I won’t give these bastards the satisfaction,” Sotello said grimly. “I’m heading back to the scene. I’ll try and get the Sacramento Police to lock down the area around here. Maybe they can luck out and get the guy.”

  “I’ll handle that right now blockhead,” Janowitz said, with exasperation creeping into his voice. “I’ll meet you at the Capital Building then.”

  “I’ll be there,” Sotello grimaced, as Sykes continued her inspection of his chest. He handed her back the phone. Sotello told Lau to head back to the scene.

  “I thought you were dead,” Phillips said.

  “So does that prick who drilled me,” Sotello replied, putting his t-shirt back on. “I hope they have a med unit there. I can get my chest looked at and taped up. Can you go get me a shirt, sport coat, and tie, Adrian? I can’t go on camera with what I’ve got.”

  “I’ll take care of it as soon as I can,” Phillips agreed. “I think you’re taking this a little past courageous, and into the realm of stupid though.” Sotello laughed, and then grimaced in pain. “Don’t make me laugh. Just pick me up some duds, which will go with these dark gray suit pants, okay?” “Okay,” Phillips agreed reluctantly.

  The area in front of the Capital Building was awash in police and emergency vehicles. A plainclothes policeman spotted their limo moving slowly towards the area, and signaled Lau to a stop. Sykes opened her door and stepped out. She showed him her ID, and explained the situation in detail. As she reentered the limo, the policeman cleared a path to where a Paramedic vehicle was parked. Minutes later, Sotello was seated inside the vehicle, with two Paramedics taking his vital signs, and assessing what they could do.

  Sykes took the police over to the exact spot, where Sotello had been shot, and showed them the probable areas where the shots may have been fired. She had brought Sotello’s armored vest over for them to see the trajectory of the shots. Janowitz had already contacted them, and they had a ring of police, and highway patrol vehicles, moving to cut off any exit from the area within a two mile radius. When she was sure she had done everything she could, Sykes walked back over to check on Sotello. One of the Paramedics was wrapping Sotello’s chest area, as she approached.

  “How you doing,” Sykes asked, noticing the gray pallor on Sotello’s face after the shooting, now looked of normal coloring.

  “Much better Jan,” Sotello replied. “I think I’ll jog around the park a couple of times to loosen up.”

  This provoked laughter from both of the Paramedics, but Sykes grunted disapprovingly. “You think he’s joking? Anyway, everything, which can be done, is being done. Adrian left with Danny to get you a new wardrobe. Do you want me to call Ellen or Craig for you?”

  “Nope,” Sotello said. “I’ll call them. They better hear my voice tell it rather than someone else’s. I don’t want any of this getting out before the debate, so with your help, we will stave off all press people until I get my moment in the sun with our illustrious Governor, okay?”

  “Once we get inside, Jane can help with the lock down. I know the Governor’s people won’t object.”

  “That’s for sure. He’d probably think it was another publicity stunt,” Sotello agreed. “Let’s go inside now, and let Jane get things rolling. I’ll put on the new clothes later.”

  “You sound pretty hoarse Jim,” Sykes observed. “Are you sure you can go through with this?”

  “I’ll just have to keep my speaking short and to the point. I’m glad Hank’s coming. We will have to keep an eye out for people who don’t belong. The shooter may not be running at all, and could be planning on a follow up inside the Capital.”

  “You’re right,” Sykes agreed. “Jane will know everyone who should be there on her crew, and the Governor will be able to weed out anyone not on his team. We will have to avoid the crowds outside the building afterwards though.”

  “We can’t do that Jan,” Sotello objected. “I have to press the flesh with the people who drove all the way to see me. It will just be another chance to spit in these punks’ eyes, and show them they can’t stop me.”

  Sykes sighed in digust. “Let’s get going before you disappear completely into the Twilight Zone.”

  __

  Sotello had just slipped into the new sports jacket Phillips had found for him, with Sykes help, when Denton and Stevens walked up to him. He had already gone through the make up process, and been fitted with a mike for the debate. For the first time, Sotello thought he saw something like compassion in his two media nemeses’ eyes. Denton held out his hand, and Sotello shook it.

  “We just wanted to check on you,” Stevens said, as she also shook Sotello’s hand. “Are you feeling up to this? The Governor told me he would be more than willing to postpone this under the circumstances.”

  “Thank you, but I would rather go on with it,” Sotello replied. “My voice is improving, and the chest wrap keeps me comfortable. I doubt I will be any less sore in the days ahead. My experience in such
matters has been it always hurts more the morning after. Besides, there’s nothing like some verbal torture to take my mind off my troubles.”

  They laughed appreciatively, and Denton spoke for the first time. “You know, I think I’m beginning to like you.”

  “You better hold off on that sentiment, my friend, until you see how well I grind up the Governor. You may not like me so much then.”

  “I’ll get over it,” Denton smiled. “I know one thing, this has nothing to do with the race, other than the plans you mean to put into play if you get elected. Rachel and I are not so stupid, we do not know something very dangerous is at hand, and somehow you hold the key to stopping it.”

  “I think all of us in the media keep treating this on going war like some kind of simple inconvenience,” Rachel added. “Your run for the Governorship has focused on the fact we are not as free as we thought. These people mean to stop you. They don’t seem to want to leave it up to chance. Something will have to be done to stop them, whether you, or Governor Davidson, wins the election.”

  “I think Davidson knows a reckoning is coming too,” Sotello said. “He may not say much now, but you can be sure this Terrorist ploy during the election has his attention. Even if I lose, I think these murderers have tipped their hand. Davidson’s an American, and California will be safer after this election, no matter what the outcome.”

  Denton nodded in agreement. “I hope you’re right, Jim. Well, good luck. We’ll see you shortly.”

  As Stevens and Denton walked away to get their show started, Sykes approached and handed Sotello a glass of ice water. Sotello accepted it gratefully, and took a huge swallow, gasping, as a pain shot through him at the movement. He saw the uncertainty in Sykes’ eyes.

  “You did real well there, Sotello,” Sykes joked. “I think you had them fooled. What kind of trick do you plan to pull out to get through an hour of televised debate?”

  “I’m getting waves of negative vibes here, Agent Sykes,” Sotello responded. “As my chief liaison of defense with the outside world, I find your attitude highly disturbing.”

  Sykes laughed. “It’s good to know you are just as full of it as you were before. Hank cannot believe you’re going through with this.”

  “But I bet he has the whole thing covered, and he loves having live bait.”

  “Perhaps,” Sykes agreed, “but his first instinct remains keeping you alive.”

  “I know that,” Sotello said. “That was a first class attempt. They’ve given up on the area destruction, and decided for a honed attack.”

  “If not for the vest, they had you cold.”

  “If the show had been later, and the light better, the shooter would have taken a head shot,” Sotello said matter-of-factly. “Sighting with those night vision scopes is not as easy as some people think. Anyway, I’m here, and the election will be over soon, one way or another. You’re on the front lines Agent Sykes, and we’re surviving.”

  “How did Ellen and the mime take it when you told them what happened?”

  “Not well, but it certainly was better hearing it from me, after the fact,” Sotello replied. He took another sip of his ice water, and then gestured towards the door. “Shall we, my dear?”

  “By all means, you first Bullseye.”

  Chapter 45

  Civilized Debate

  “The first question, we want to cover in this televised debate, revolves around education,” Rachel Stevens spoke from behind a moderator’s table, seated next to Denton. “We would like each of you to cover your ideas on education reform in California. Please address this first Governor, you have five minutes.”

  Davidson smilingly launched into a recap of his recent visits to various school districts, and the continuing improvement he has noticed since he came into office. He praised the teachers, and the dedication of the education department. In conclusion, he reiterated any problems they were having could be remedied as more money became available. Davidson promised to work to increase his educational budget in his next term, and meet the growing challenges ahead.

  “Time Governor,” Denton said. “Mr. Sotello, would you respond? You have five minutes.”

  “I have just a few simple points to make,” Sotello began, looking directly into the cameras, without glancing down at notes. “California ranks twenty-seventh in the nation in scholastic achievement, and yet we rank number one in money spent, with over ninety-seven hundred dollars per student. Our classrooms teach everything from sex education to Islamic Fundamentalism, and yet we graduate students who cannot read their own diplomas.”

  “Anti-Americanism becomes an ever more popular agenda pushed inside our public schools, with an ever increasing emphasis on America being the cause of the world’s ills. History textbooks cover our World War II with two items highlighted: Japanese internment camps, and women in factories. The curriculum no longer includes the incredible battles, and sacrifices, made by young men, who were no more than teenagers. Battles such as Iwo Jima, Bougainville, Omaha Beach, have all but disappeared from mention. You would think we did not have the survival of the civilized world at stake, and Hitler was just another German leader.”

  “We need to teach our children reading, writing, mathematics, science, and true history. We need to get sexual agendas, false environmentalism, reading experiments like Whole Language, Anti-Americanism, religious indoctrination by sworn enemies of our country, and cultural diversity psychobabble out of our public schools.”

  “Money will not cure our educational problems. Enforcing immigration laws, and passing a voucher system in California, will save our school age children from the politically correct morons, who wish to brainwash them. We need to graduate well-educated, independent thinkers in this state. Blind funding of a failed educational system, turning out indoctrinated zombies, who can neither read nor write, and are taught to hate their own country, goes against everything America stands for.”

  “If parents want emphasis on Anti-Americanism, cultural diversity, homosexual agendas, Islamic indoctrination, and whacko environmentalism; then fine, California Public Schools are doing just that. I believe parents want their children to graduate, able to compete in a vastly changing technological world, and learn to be proud, independently thinking American citizens. They should be allowed to send their children wherever they can achieve that goal, and right now, California Public Schools are not it. Voucher systems will make the schools accountable, and end this fall off the cliff of knowledge in California, brought on by ignorant officials and the Teachers’ Union.”

  Sotello looked over at the Governor. Davidson’s face resembled his nickname. The Governor stared straight down at his notes, with his fists clenched on the stand holding them. Even not having to deal with hostile crowds was making little difference in his mood. When they realized Sotello had finished with a minute to spare, Rachel Stevens addressed the Governor.

  “Governor Davidson, would you care to rebut?”

  “Yes Rachel,” Davidson said, regaining his poise. “We have been all over the voucher system in this state. No parents wish for their children to be discriminated against by rich private schools, or end up in some place teaching Satanism. Surely Mr. Sotello, you are disingenuous at best, or intentionally naïve?”

  “First off,” Sotello said firmly. “No one can be discriminated against in this state, according to race, creed, or color. Secondly, the best part about competition in our schools, will be allowing parents to send their children anywhere they wish. They will not send them to a California school of Satanism. If they wanted agenda indoctrination, they can allow them to continue in California Public Schools.”

  “What do you mean by agenda indoctrination, Mr. Sotello?” Davidson smiled, believing he had an opening. “Surely, you do not mean to insinuate Aids awareness and alternative lifestyle choices, mentioned within our school system, are some form of evil.”

  “Anything else, not having to do with English, math, science, or history, taught in classes from ki
ndergarten to twelfth grade graduation, should be left to the discretion of the child’s parents, and not the State of California,” Sotello said with passion.

  “So, in other words,” Davidson said smugly. “You would abandon all of our social programs, helping children to cope with today’s world; where discrimination, sexually transmitted diseases, drugs, and teenage pregnancy run rampant.”

  “In a heartbeat,” Sotello replied forcefully. “The State has no business teaching morality. Right and wrong must be taught and enforced by the child’s parents. I wish to champion a school system, which graduates educated high achievers, who leave school ready to succeed at life, not star on the Jerry Springer Show.”

  Phillips watched the crowd gathered around the Capital Building steps, listening to the debate piped to them, break into wild cheers and applause at Sotello’s ending comment. Until then, they had been listening intently, but quietly. He smiled, and spoke to Sykes, who was in the Governor’s office.

  “They went nuts over that one, Jan.”

  “God,” Sykes whispered. “Where’d he pull that one from? Davidson’s just standing there, pretending he’s waiting for another question. It stopped him in his tracks.”

  “Jim’s a natural.”

  Sotello, who had paused to let Davidson speak, now continued on, when the Governor hesitated. “Discipline remains a continuing travesty in the public schools. Authority figures in a school need to be able to weed out troublemakers. Young thugs, who spend their entire day at school disrupting other students, will be forced out. I am sick of the entire State of California’s educational system being bent over backwards to baby-sit hoodlums, and gangsters-in-training.”

  “Surely, you do not mean to abandon these children,” Davidson said, seemingly aghast at such a pronouncement.