Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

by Frank Klus

  Chad Armstrong was made leader of security with Ray’s blessing. He’d handle all security issues now. He got them four rooms at the “kidnap” motel; all singles. Armstrong and Bones would tradeoff every few hours with Foote and Wrenn, who would be on lookout from the Suburban. They all met in Ray’s room.

  “Okay, I get that we have to face the Hogs now rather than fall into some trap later,” Pamela said. “But what’s going to happen when they get here?”

  Chad nodded, acknowledging her question. “That’s what we need to discuss.”

  “Terry Foote and I staked the place out,” Wrenn said. “We can get up on the roof with our pieces. We can shoot them with no witnesses and get right back down.”

  “How are you going to get up there?” Eugene asked.

  “Climb,” answered Wrenn, with a subtle grin.

  Armstrong just smiled. “They can see better from up there. If the Hogs get past them, we’ll be waiting for ‘em.”

  “How?” Eugene asked again. “What if they come to my door, or Pamela’s?”

  “Don’t answer,” Ray said.

  “We should arm them,” Cassandra said.

  Armstrong nodded. “Okay. We have extra hand guns. If we need to get you, we’ll rap twice, pause, and twice more; and then we’ll identify ourselves. If you don’t hear that knock, don’t answer the door. That goes for everybody. If someone forces their way in, shoot to kill.”

  “We should have a sign for skedaddle,” Wrenn said.

  Armstrong thought a moment. “Danger! That will be the sign to get in your vehicles and get out of here. We should head for South Dakota again and follow the original route.”

  “Sounds like the plan,” Ray said.

  “Me and Bones will take the first watch on the roof. The rest of you, go to your rooms and wait for the Hogs,” Chad said, smiling.

  A few minutes later Foote came to Pamela and Eugene’s rooms with two Berettas. He got them together to show them how to use the military weapons. “This is the safety. Keep it on until you need to use the weapon. This is a nine millimeter, semi-automatic pistol. You hold it like this.”

  Foote aimed at the rear wall. He showed how to hold the pistol with two hands. “Get a good athletic stand with knees bent and about shoulder distance apart. Stick your fanny out like this. Keep your trigger finger on the guard—not the trigger—until you’re ready to shoot. Here’s the safety. The weapon is ready to fire when you see the red dot. Aim at the middle of the guy’s chest, and fire.”

  Colderon and his Hogs raced up Rte. 89. It was late when they got to the motel where they pulled off the kidnapping. Piper’s car was there.

  “You got a tracker?” Colderon said to Piggy, his squad leader.

  “Yeah.”

  “Put it on the clunker she’s using.”

  Piggy got out and walked to the car. Shots rang out, and Piggy went down. Colderon cut out of the parking lot. He turned around, entered the back lot, and then waited.

  Armstrong and Bones came out slowly. Bones pulled out his Berretta and trained it on Piggy. He was moving a little, but there wasn’t much blood. They disarmed the Hog, and then Armstrong motioned for Bones to help carry him into their room.

  “Rubber bullets,” Bones said.

  They tied him up and muzzled him in Armstrong’s room, while Chad fished out his phone. “I know a way we can get what we need out of him,” he said.

  Armstrong hung up, and the two went to Ray and Cassandra’s room, gave the proper knock, identified themselves, and entered.

  “What happened out there?” both of them demanded.

  “It was the Hogs,” Armstrong said. “They came. Wrenn and Foote shot one of them. We have him tied up in my room. Colderon is in the back parking lot as we speak, but I’ve got an idea. I called Dr. Schmidt, Dr. Grifton, and the woman who’s with them, and told them to come here. They’re leaving right away, but they’re bringing all their chemicals. Schmidt told me that one of the drugs acts as a kind of truth serum. Doctors Schmidt and Grifton know how to use them properly. This way we can learn what the Hogs are up to, what they know, what their plans are, and any other pertinent information we can get. Bones, why don’t you go over there and let Pamela and Eugene know what’s going on. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “What about the Hogs in back?” Cassandra asked.

  “We do exactly what they’re doing—wait.”

  Schmidt wouldn’t get there until tomorrow. In the meantime, Armstrong was interrogating Piggy. The motel manager never saw Colderon and never knew about any impending contention between two enemy groups.

  “Can you at least tell me what to call you?”

  “Piggy.”

  “Like a real Hog, huh?”

  Piggy didn’t say anything. He just ate his sandwich. “I ain’t telling you nothin’ else.”

  “Oh, I think you will,” Armstrong said with a slight smile on his face.

  “Fuck!” Piggy snorted. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because everyone talks eventually.”

  Piggy, an ex-Blue and close confidant of Carlos Colderon, was tough and true to his word—he wouldn’t talk. He looked like an overstuffed Panda Bear. Born Jevaun Williams from Jamaica, this dark-complexioned big man was Carlos’s muscle guy. He once took on a pack of five drug dealers, broke one guy’s jaw with a single punch, slapped another to the ground, picked up two more, and slammed them to the ground. The last man ran off. The only way to tackle this guy was to shoot him first.

  Ray O’Reilly released his handcuffs periodically so he could eat, while Armstrong kept a gun on him. Piggy would always laugh at the treatment, though Armstrong knew that Ray was his equal in strength.

  With Schmidt on the way, Piggy began laughing as he finished his sandwich.

  “What’s so funny, Piggy?” Armstrong said.

  “You can’t get no…info.” Then he started laughing again, imitating the Rolling Stones song, Satisfaction. “Can’t get no…info. No, no, info. You can try, and try, and try, and try, but you can’t get no…info.” Then he just laughed again. He put down the sandwich and looked up at Armstrong with a grin. “You wanna know why?” Then he raised his voice. “Cause I don’t know nothin’, ha-ha. Hog don’t tell nothin’ to nobody who ain’t got no business knowin’ nothin’, ha-ha.”

  Armstrong looked at him with a grin on his face too. Then he leaned over to Piggy. “You know stuff, and then I’m gonna know stuff. Finish your sandwich.”

  Someone knocked at the door, but not the secret knock. Armstrong was cautious, but he was expecting the two doctors.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Doctor Schmidt.”

  Armstrong opened the door. He gave him his room key, told him to go next door, and that he would be there in about ten minutes. Armstrong waited for Piggy to finish eating, then Ray tied him up, muzzled him, and the two went to Ray and Cassandra’s room. They were relieved from roof duty by Foote and Wrenn. Ray and Cassandra volunteered to take Armstrong’s place so that Armstrong could command operations from the ground. He explained his plan to everyone, and then went to Schmidt’s room.

  “This room is not acceptable,” Schmidt said. “Too many beds. I need a single room with a single bed. Then, what are you going to do about maid service? I can’t have some damn maid coming into my laboratory.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Schmidt.”

  “Doctor Schmidt.”

  “Yeah, Doctor Schmidt. Where’s the other esteemed doctor?”

  “Dr. Grifton is in the van watching the equipment.”

  “What about the woman you said was with you?”

  “Wait!” Schmidt dialed a number. “Dr. Schmidt here. Where are you?”

  (Pause) “Oh, okay. You know where we are, right?”

  (Pause) “Good. Come to room 117.”

  (Pause) “Good.” He hung up. Turning to the other three, “She’s on her way. Should be here in about half an hour. Now, what about my room and my privacy?”

&n
bsp; Armstrong went to the front office. He was gone about ten minutes. He knocked twice on Schmidt’s room, paused, and knocked twice again. Then he said softly, “Armstrong.” He let him in.

  “Everything’s set.”

  “You got my room?”

  “One each for you, Dr. Grifton, and the woman.”

  “And the bed?”

  “The manager is going to remove the other bed in there. You’ll have a single bed for you and your lab.”

  “And this was okay with the manager?” Schmidt asked.

  “Of course it is,” Armstrong said. “He hasn’t had so much business in ten years’ worth of off seasons. When I showed him an extra five one hundred dollar bills, his eyes lit up. Then he says ‘you don’t have an orgy going on, do you?’ And I said, ‘so what if we do?’ Then he says, ‘Just don’t do anything to attract the cops.’ I said, ‘sure’. The extra bed will be gone in an hour.”

  Eugene Sulke was reading when there was a knock at his door. It was just a plain old knock, so he was nervous. He got the gun Armstrong gave him and slipped off the safety. “Who is it?”

  “My name is Sandra. I’m with the two doctors that arrived a little while ago. Are you Phillip Mulligan?”

  Phillip Mulligan? He opened the door slowly and saw a woman, around forty-five, attractive, with light brown hair; curly, and extended down to the middle of her back. Her hazel eyes were bright, and she was dressed in a grey skirt and white blouse. There was a certain familiarity about her, but he wasn’t sure why. He could see her eyes were fixated on the gun he still carried. “Oh, I’m sorry. We’re supposed to carry it unless we hear the special knock.”

  “Are you Phillip? Pamela told me you had this room?” Eugene just stared at her.

  “May I come in? I promise I’m not dangerous.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sorry. Please.” He motioned for her to come in and then put the gun away.

  They began talking, and Sandra mentioned Fernando. “I used to know a Fernando,” Eugene said. “He was in Joliet when I was in prison. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Anyway, he was my cellmate. He talked about how he lost his wife to the camp.”

  “Wait! You were in Joliet prison? When?”

  “A few months ago. I was let out by a man who I thought was my best friend. It turned out he just let me out so I could be tortured in this brain probe place called—”

  “Hell House.”

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “I’ve only just figured it out myself. I went through it. I believe I am the wife your Fernando talked about. I was in Joliet prison too. I’m still not sure for what. I believe it was for extortion, but I don’t believe that.”

  Eugene grabbed a bottle of wine from his stash and poured it into a couple glasses.

  “That’s what Fernando told me he was in for too. He took out a loan from his employer and couldn’t pay it back. Fernando said that’s what happened to you too. You couldn’t pay back a loan, so when you ran off they charged you with extortion. You were jailed and Fernando was sent home. Then he said that you came to him a few months later with divorce papers, and your lawyer told him he had to sign them. He only did it when you yelled at him to sign those papers. He knew you went through what he called ‘the camps’.”

  “Those were images I had, but I couldn’t quite remember why I did that. My memories of Fernando were all so sweet. I know that I loved him, but then those memories were all taken away from me. All I could remember was falling in love with Jaydan Casimir, the Commandant of the Lightning Squad. The problem is that I never felt anything for him, and he’s so much older than I. I couldn’t figure out what I had seen in him until my dreams started.”

  “Dreams?”

  “Yes, didn’t you have them? They stuck you in Hell House too. That’s why I came here.”

  “Yes, but I was rescued after three days. I have a vivid memory of that terrible brain probe. So you started to remember through dreaming about it?”

  Sandy filled Eugene in on the dreams, the visions, her research; and how she came to realize that it was only the brain probe that made her think she had always loved Jaydan, and that Fernando was such a terrible husband.

  “You said you didn’t remember Fernando, but then you said they made you hate him.”

  “I think they made me hate him to convince him to sign the divorce papers. Then they must have taken all memory of him away. You were with him in prison. Oh, please, Phillip, tell me about him.”

  They were interrupted by a loud noise, a crashing sound, and then the sound of gunfire from next door.

  Sandy screamed. “What’s that?” she said in a panicked manner. “What’s happening out there?”

  “I think the Hogs came back.”

  She flashed a questioning look at him. “Don’t say anything more, Sandra. We must remain quiet until we get the all-clear. All the people we’re with are experts. They’ll deal with the problem.”

  Eugene stood by the door, trying to listen to what was going on outside.

  “Foote,” Armstrong said over the phone. “What’s happening?”

  “All I know is that the Hogs drove the van around to your side, but parked it close to the building so I couldn’t see too well, and then, when me and Wrenn moved close to the edge to get a better view, we got shot at by someone near one of the parked vehicles. They missed us, but they got Bones.”

  Armstrong’s heart dropped. “What’s his condition?”

  “It doesn’t look good. He’s not moving.”

  Armstrong hesitated, composing himself. “What was the crashing noise?”

  “Four of them busted Pamela’s door down. She shot at one, but I don’t know if she killed any. They grabbed her. I don’t know her situation since they secured the broken door.”

  “Try and get that sniper on the ground, will you?”

  “He’s pretty well hidden, but maybe we can draw him out.”

  “Stay on him.”

  Chad walked to the door and opened it; then yelled out, “What are your terms?”

  “Who am I talking to?” shouted a voice from the adjacent room.

  “The name’s Armstrong. Is this Colderon?”

  “Armstrong? I remember you,” he said with a smile. “You working with Ray O’Reilly?”

  “I remember you too. We used to fight on the same side. I guessed that’s all changed.”

  “Where is Piggy? I saw you shoot him.”

  “He’s fine. We have him tied up. Do you want him?”

  “What are your terms?”

  “We give him back to you, and you leave without Pamela.”

  “Can’t do that, Armstrong. I came for Sulke. Guess I got the wrong room. Here’s my terms. Give me Sulke and Piggy, and I’ll give you back Piper. We’ll leave then, and you are free to go about your business.”

  “Let me think about it.”

  “Think fast. You got fifteen minutes.”

  Piggy had been interrogated by Dr. Schmidt. They gave him a sedative so Ray could carry him to Dr. Schmidt’s room. They had him strapped to a gurney. Before each session he was given a chemical that made him relax, and then a truth serum, but Piggy was stubborn. Schmidt was beginning to believe he really didn’t know anything, but Grifton wanted to increase the dosage and try it once more. Schmidt did so.

  “What is the plan?” Dr. Schmidt said.

  “I don’t know,” Piggy said, in a sleepy manner.

  “Who do you want?”

  “Sulke.”

  The two doctors just looked at each other. It was the first positive answer they had gotten. Piggy started to drop off and Schmidt gave him a shot of adrenaline.

  “What about Sulke?” Dr. Schmidt asked.

  “Have to kill him.”

  “Who else?”

  Piggy then smiled. He looked up at Schmidt. “All of you.”

  Schmidt called Armstrong and let him know what Piggy confessed. Armstrong thought a minute.

  Colderon yelled out. “Five
minutes.”

  “All right, here’s the plan,” Armstrong said. “Ray and Cassandra—go get Piggy and start him in my direction. Then, using Piggy as a shield, duck behind my truck. The Hog outside prevents us from doing anything. Find him and shoot him. If you can’t do that, then flush him out, where Foote or Wrenn can get a bead on him. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Ray and Cassandra went to get Piggy. He was wobbly and couldn’t walk without assistance. Because of Piggy’s size, only Ray could walk him along while Cassandra kept a gun in Piggy’s back. When they got to Armstrong’s door, Chad grabbed him around the neck, holding a knife to him. He moved over to Colderon’s door. “Where’s Piper?”

  “She’s right here, Armstrong.”

  “I’ve got Piggy. Release the woman.”

  “Where’s Sulke?”

  “He’s not in his room.”

  “What! What are you pulling, Armstrong?”

  “It’ll have to be Piggy. Sulke must have gone out somewhere. I don’t know where he is. Now release Pamela or I slit Piggy’s throat.”

  “You got two minutes, Armstrong. Give me Sulke or Piper gets it.”

  “No dice, Colderon. We got your guys surrounded. They won’t be any help to you. You kill Pamela and you just signed your death warrant.”

  “What are we going to do now?” Moon asked, a Squad member working with the Hogs.

  “Let me think.”

  “We’re trapped in here,” yelled Moon.

  “This was a lousy plan from the start,” Murph said; another Squad member.

  “Shut up!” yelled Colderon.

  “I told you we should have one guy in the truck.” Colderon gave him an evil look, but Murph just continued. “Now we’re all boxed in here. Fucking mess.”

  An angry Carlos stared at him. “I told you we couldn’t keep a guy in the truck because he’d be a sitting duck for those two guys on the roof, not to mention anyone outside. So long as we have Piper they can’t do anything. Bring her over to the door.”

  Turning toward the door, “Hey, Armstrong. You still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m still here.”