by Mike Gomes
She gasped for air feeling the pain shoot through her like a lightning bolt. Her lung stayed up and did not collapse but that just caused the ribs to be digging into the lung harder and harder with each deep breath she had.
Pulling his boot back he kicked hard on her shoulder making her release her grip from him.
The door opened to the room and slammed shut before Wyatt got to his feet.
Falau heard the door as well and got to one knee to survey the room and see who had left. It was Duke he thought. He pivoted and pulled himself up .
The blast of the 357 magnum rang out in the air again and Falau felt the bullet whiz by his right ear and saw it blow a hole in the wall destroying the sheet rock making it crumble to the floor. Falau changed direction and dove to the floor next to Tim who had removed a Smith and Wesson 9mm shield semi-automatic handgun and had it trained for anyone who came around the bed.
“No you don’t Falau. That boy belongs to me.” yelled Wyatt after the shot rang out. “I could have killed you then but I didn’t. Let me get my man and I have no problem with you but so help me if you or your team get in my way I will see my way to putting all of you in a shallow grave tonight.
Gabriela saw that Wyatt had taken a half step backward and toward the window. Even if she had been able to reach him she would never have had the strength to pull him down after having her ribs crushed for the second time in the day. Moving back into tactical thinking rather than the attack thinking that she greatly preferred, she moved slowly and methodically inch by inch back under the bed and pushing herself to the far side. It would have only been a matter of time before Wyattt would realize she was his ticket to getting out of the room alive. He could take her hostage and just back his way out.
With all the shooting the police had to have been called at this point though Falau. His Ruger 9mm firmly in his hands he held close to the side of the bed with Tim.
“We have a standoff here Mr. Houston. Someone is going to die tonight. No way you can kill all three of us. You might get one but the other two have guns too. You will be dead in seconds.” said Falau.
“That don’t sound too bad to me friend. Kind of a gun fight at the O.K. Corral situation. Loved that movie as a kid. If I have to die tonight that will be fine by me just as long as at least one of you is in a pine box next to me.”
“Or maybe you will be alone. We might get the first shot off and then you're by yourself in that hole.” said Tim tweaking at the pride of Wyatt.
“Is that grandpa talking again? It’s past seven o’clock at night. Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” mocked the cowboy.
“Come tuck me in hot shot and I will have a little something for you.”
Falau smiled and a soft chuckle came from Wyatt.
“Well alright, old man, I like your spunk but you're into something here that you have never seen before.”
“Sonny, I put more men in the ground than days you have been alive and I am still here. You don’t scare me.”
Gabriela listened to the bickering between the two men thinking that their macho attitude never left them not even staring death in the face. She knew that they should be thinking tactics rather than playing school yard insults with one another, but she also knew that this would work to her advantage. She could see that Wyatt was closer to the window. His feet pushed up to the wall. He was making no attempt to get to the door and he probably felt he had an advantage shooting down at them when they poked their heads out.
Gabriela drew her Glock from her waistband. A 45 caliber handgun with more than enough power to render Wyatt Houston dead. But from under the bed she could not get a clean shot at him. Instead she aimed for his feet, hoping to make him pull up lame like a horse with a bad hoof. Holding the gun to the side she could feel the pulling on her ribs as she raised the gun off the floor. The ribs dug harder into her lungs and she feared they would cause a large tear in the lung causing her to struggle for life. Her arm could barely get to the level she needed to squeeze off three shots.
Laying her free hand under her cheek she leveled her head with the sights of her gun and calmed her breathing. She drew in a shallow breath trying not to expand her lungs too much and slowly let it out causing her body and aim to become steady. The kick of the handgun forced her arm up and the pain ripped into her lung and ribs caused flashes of light to jump in front of her eyes. For a moment the world looked black and white and she could hear nothing but ringing from the gun fire sound bouncing around under the bed.
The three shots landed to the left, between, and to the right of Wyatt’s feet. He heard the fire but had no idea where it had come from. All he knew was that the fight was on. In the distance the sound of police sirens were getting closer and closer. The big cowboy moved into the corner of the room close to the window and pulled his firearm up ready to shoot. Turning his head slightly he saw Duke rushing out the front of the hotel.
His target was getting away.
He turned his 357 magnum to the window and fired it twice shattering the window and having it fall on the people below. The glass was made to spider crack like a windshield to prevent cutting if possible.
The people on the street down below ran for cover. Duke looked up to see Wyatt and got close to the building making another shot impossible. He ran as fast as he could creating distance from the group of attackers in the room.
Wyatt heard the rapid sound of feet running away. Lifting his left foot he rammed the sole of his boot on the window ledge where the glass once sat. Small pieces popped out and stuck into his boot or fell away. Without pausing he hung one foot out the window and then the second. Turning his body he grabbed the sill of the window he had just cleared away. He let his body fall and hung from the second story. Letting go he curled his body into a ball and fell into a bush to break his fall. A limb from the bush penetrated his coat, shirt, and skin of his left back shoulder. He grunted loudly as he pulled himself from the bush and the limb was dislodged from him. In the distance he could see Duke running and he set off after him.
In the room the team watched outside the window tempted to take a shot at Wyatt but it was too high a risk and it did not assist them in their mission to bring Duke back.
“They are going that way. Let’s get on them.” Falau commanded and the group turned and made way for the door.
Chapter 28
A well placed foot running at full speed kicked the door to the stairway open with a crash. Falau, Gabriela, and Tim moved through it before the door could swing back and be on them.
“I can’t keep up.” gasped Tim moving as quickly as he could.
“We need to be out of here before the police get here.” called Falau.
Reaching the first floor the team leader pulled on the door and opened the lobby to them. With no hesitation they darted across the lobby and out the front door. With the gunshot and commotion the lobby was empty. Everyone must have evacuated to ensure safety thought Falau.
Going down the steps they took a hard turn to the right in the direction that Duke and the cowboy went.
After a hundred yards up the street Tim slowed his speed and called to the others. “Wait. I can’t keep running. We should be safe now.”
The other two stopped running and looked back at Tim whose chest was heaving and sweat had built up on his forehead. He was walking with a limp and slightly hunched over.
“We look... more suspicious... running. It’s... a sure way to... get caught. Just walk.” said Tim through gasps of air and placing his hand on Falau’s shoulder.
“Tim are you ok?” asked Falau leaning into him.
“I feel great. Winded... but great.”
“I don’t think it matters much. They are long gone. We have no chance of catching them now. Tim can you track the credit cards again and we can see where he is next time he uses it?” asked Gabriela who’s face grimaced in pain from her rib digging into her. The moment the adrenalin started to subside the pain would rise and she had to just power though it.
“I can do better than that. I know where he is going.”
“What kind of contraption do you have that can tell you that?” she asked.
“Experience and my brain. I have been to London a dozen times for work and pleasure. I know this city like the back of my hand.”
“But how do you know where he will go?” asked Falau directly knowing they were pressed for time.
“He can’t out run the cowboy so he is going to have to jump in a cab. They will ask him where he wants to go and he will have no idea. He just wants to get away as fast as he can. The cab driver will ask him if he is okay or something like that and then he or the cab driver will suggest seeing the sites. Then they will go to the one sight everyone wants to see at night. They will drive up Brompton Road onto Kings Brook and then merge onto Piccadilly.”
“Piccadilly circus.” said Falau nodding his head understanding Tim’s train of thought. “If there is one place to get lost into a crowd and be stopped from being followed it is in the Time Square of London.”
“Exactly. I will be shocked if he is not there. The cab driver can bring him there and pick up another fair with someone who is leaving. Double his earnings.” said Tim smiling “the problem is that cowboy. He will be on Duke’s heels whether he is on foot or a cab.”
“If Duke stays on foot he will get caught.” said Gabriela. “I don’t think even he is that stupid. The cowboy can fight and he has courage. He jumped out that window without thinking twice. He has a single focus on what he wants to accomplish. He does not care who he has to kill if they get in his way. I have met men like him before. They can smile and look you in the eye as they pull the trigger ending your life.”
“I got the same feeling back at Duke’s place. He would have killed me if he had thirty seconds more. Not an ounce of hesitation in the man. We have to be ready to kill him if we need to.” said Falau.
“I will do it.” answered Gabriela.
“Gabriela that is not a must. Only if we have to do it we kill him. Understood?”
“I understand but things would go much smoother if I could just take him out.”
“We are not killers unless we have to be.”
Tim stepped out to the curb and raised his hand flagging down a cab. The three piled into the back and Tim told the man to go to Piccadilly Circus. The three remained silent on the ten minute trip each one licking their wounds. The apprehension of Duke had proven to be far more difficult than anyone expected. The addition of Wyatt Houston and his motivations was a complication that moved the situation into life and death. Falau understood that for Wyatt Houston it was all just business but he was a man that could not accept failure. He was too proud and determined to let them interfere with his plans. He was the kind of man who just might kill Duke to spite them. To teach them a lesson about who is in charge and how he can turn his back on the money just to win the battle with them. Falau was sure that Duke had a better chance of living if he was caught by them than if Wyatt got a hold of him first.
The car pulled up on the edge of Piccadilly Circus. The streets were alive with excitement and people milling about. Street performers played guitar and did magic for small gatherings of people looking to throw a few pounds into their hat for their efforts. The neon signs were brash and overwhelming. They seemed somewhat out of place with Falau’s thinking of British culture, but this was the modern area where the hip took their breaks from SoHo to visit. Tourists came in droves and purchased the same thing as they could at home for a slightly higher price.
The group stepped from the cab and paid the man for his services.
The air smelled of a mix of foods that wafted from the open front eateries and the occasional cart serving food. Throngs of teenagers milled about getting pints of beer and attempting to conceal them as they walked around. There was little room to move about and the area was still open to some traffic.
“This will be like finding a needle in a haystack. I could walk right by him and not know it.” said Tim shaking his head.
The older man felt a vibration in his pocket and reached for his phone. Pulling up the display a smiley face danced around on the screen.
“Is that from your wife?” questioned Gabriela looking over at the display of his phone.
“No. Even better it’s Duke.”
“What? He is texting you?” asked Falau pulling himself to get a better look at the screen.
“Not quite. I still have the software running in the cloud. I set it up to text me if he used one of his credit cards. Okay Duke, tell me where you are.” said Tim with a large smile.
Typing in his passcode Tim maneuvered through the security he had set up in case of outside interference. He paused and looked back over his shoulder at the walk in pizza place.
“He was here just five minutes ago. He spent 1 pound. He must have got a drink.”
“All right let’s fan out so we can track this guy down.” said Falau taking a step off the curb.
“Hold on!” said Tim causing the other two to jerk to a halt and turn and stare at him with confusion building on their faces. “I have the ear pieces. We can keep communication with one another.”
“Good.” said Gabriela reaching out for her earpiece and inserting it.
“Ok let’s do this. Gabriela, you’re to the right. I will take the left, and Tim you go straight ahead. Gabriela we will keep working into the center and Tim you move serpentine back and forth sweeping the area. Clear?”
“Yes.” said Tim and Gabriela in unison.
Moving out they weaved their way through the thick crowd bumping and pushing their way to their designated area. Falau looked for the cowboy hat of Wyatt. He was sure the big man was there somewhere and he did not want to be caught off guard by him. If illuminating Falau would make his job easier he would do it in a crowd without thinking twice about it. The advantage was that Wyatt’s size would make him stand out in any mob. He must have been watching and trying to track Duke rather than rush headlong into things.
“I see him. I see Duke.” said Tim over the earpiece causing Falau to put all his attention on the words he was hearing.
Chapter 29
Pushing the cab door open he threw ten ponds into the front seat and rushed into the crowd in Piccadilly Circus.
“Son of a bitch!” snapped Wyatt Houston stamping his foot onto the ground with fury.
He had seen Duke get into the cab and was just a short way behind. He saw him get out of the car and rush into the crowd knowing he was right behind him.
“That little turd vanished like a fart in the wind.” exclaimed Wyatt pursing his lips together hard. He had grown to detest Tristan Duke just like so many other of the people he had to collect debts from. Duke was a scrawny spindly man in his view. He made his living off the buying and selling of others and had produced nothing of substance with his life. Money meant nothing and Duke was quite the opposite. He felt money was everything. To him it was power and control and no matter what you did to get it was justified. That just was not the case in Wyatt Houston’s world. A man was never judged by the size of his wallet. A man was judged by what he did in the most crucial points in his life. How he reacted and stood up to do what needed to be done. Wyatt spent a career out of doing that in the United States and Israel with special forces. Duke was lower than scum to him.
The big man pushed his way into the masses looking for any sign of the man but nothing appeared. He knew that he was easily visible to anyone being so much taller but it also gave him the advantage of looking above everyone. He moved to the right side of the crowd realizing his best approach was to weave back and forth maybe catching Duke off guard. He worked his way thirty yards up the street and scanned the area but there was nothing.
He held his ground and waited, stalking his prey in a patient and controlled manner. He knew there was no need to rush and become out of control. That is what someone who was inexperienced would do. It is what Duke would do.
Looking back down the stre
et he had just come from he saw Duke step out of the pizza parlor that he had just been in front of a few minutes before. He was taking a sip from a drink through a straw looking hopeless and weak. The big man started to move through the crowed again bumping and pushing people out of the way.
Duke turned his head to check the area and his eyes widened and the drink feel from is hand and hit down on the pavement breaking the lid from the cup and splashing it all around. The people around him hooted in disgust and anger at him but his eyes had become fixed on his attacker and he felt frozen in place.
“Hey mate! Aren’t you at least going to say sorry. These jeans are white and now ruined because you spilled on them!” yelled a late teenage boy pushing Duke on the shoulder and knocking him out of his haze.
“I am sorry.” said Duke not looking away from the man that was advancing fast and hard. Duke reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to the boy with the ruined pants. “Next pair is on me.” He said pushing his way into the crowd as hard as he could.
“Holy shit, there must be a grand here!” yelled the boy stuffing the money into his pockets for safekeeping.
“Where did he go?” asked Wyatt getting up to the boy with the soda on his pants.
“What?”
“The guy you were talking to. Where did he go?”
“You seem mad at him and he just gave me money. So if you want to know where he is you might want to have some money my little buckaroo.”
The boy reached up and pulled Wyatt’s hat from his head and placed it on his own. His friends laughed and clapped at his audacity with the large stranger.
Wyatt wasted no time and fired a jab with his right hand and landed it cleanly on the boys left eye. The orbital socket cracked with a harsh snapping sound. Blood squirted as the eye got pushed in. Blood had already got on Wyatt’s hands before the boy’s body started to fall away. He hit the ground hard and the back of his head smacked off the pavement making a thudding sound that Wyatt had heard a hundred times before. He knew the boy would be lucky to not have a concussion after that but someone had to teach him a lesson thought Wyatt.