Cruel Vintage

by Huston Michaels

  Heads turned. Kaye looked down to see Tamara Goschen mounting the stairs. Dressed in workout gear, she carried a kendo helmet under her left arm and a bamboo shinai in her right hand. Her shoulders were bare and the tattoo of the fierce Hayabusa tengu seemed to glow under the sheen of perspiration. Her lithe movements as she climbed made the tengu appear to fly.

  “Yokoso, Benkei.” Goschen said as she topped the stairs. Welcome.

  “I don’t speak Japanese,” Kaye said. “Or read Kanji.”

  Goshen smiled, raised the bamboo practice sword and placed its tip against Kaye’s chest.

  “You do, Benkei,” she said, putting slight pressure on the sword. “You just choose not to remember. I was welcoming you to my home.”

  “The name is Kaye. Detective, Los Angeles Police Department. And you, lady, are insane.”

  Goschen laughed and lowered the shinai. She brushed past Kaye and walked to the man still holding Auggie.

  “Good morning, Renzo my darling,” she said and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “I see you’ve met Benkei.”

  “Good morning, my love, and you described him perfectly,” Maisano said in return before turning to Kaye. “Please join us, Detective.”

  “You’re Lorenzo Maisano?” Kaye asked, looking at Maisano as he walked into the spacious living room. “I was expecting…I don’t know. A grown-up?”

  Maisano instantly scowled and turned bright red. “Be careful. My grandfather put me in charge here for a reason.”

  Kaye kept walking toward Auggie, who had not yet acknowledged his presence or made any attempt to escape Maisano’s grasp.

  “Auggie,” he said when he got close, “are you all right?”

  She turned her head at the sound of her name. Kaye saw that her eyes were glazed and lacked focus.

  “I’m better than that,” she said, her words slow and slurred. “I’m flyin’, man.” She smiled.

  “What did you give her?” Kaye asked, turning to Maisano.

  “Just a little something to welcome her to the family,” Maisano replied. He led Auggie to a chair near the expansive windows and sat her down. She immediately fixed on the view of the surrounding vineyards and ignored Kaye.

  Maisano tucked his pistol into his waistband.

  Goschen walked to a side table against the far wall and placed her Ben and practice sword on it. She tied an obi around her waist, picked up a long sword and dagger, and slid them into the obi.

  The two guards stayed, taking up positions on opposite sides of the large room.

  Kaye watched, studying the space at the same time. It was impressive, but to him it was now a prison with no clear avenue of escape.

  “This was all your grandfather’s idea?” Kaye asked. “The resort, the vineyards, everything?”

  “It was,” Maisano said. “He planned it for years as his retirement venture. It was all quite simple, really, once he found the right lawyers.”

  “And paid the right people,” Kaye added.

  “Of course,” Maisano said, smiling. “Business is business on both sides of the Atlantic.”

  “What I don’t get,” Kaye said, “is why not leave it legit? You’ve got to be making a bundle. Why risk bringing heat on the whole place?”

  Maisano smiled. “My grandfather failed to see the full potential of the enterprise. I’m simply taking advantage of the opportunities afforded by the laws of your wonderful country.”

  “I’m not so sure he’ll see it that way when the whole place is taken away from him and you go to prison for life,” Kaye said.

  Maisano laughed and turned to Goschen. “Are you ready to take care of our business?”

  “I am,” she replied, then turned to one of the guards. “Please bring Elizabeth to the patio.”

  The guard nodded and headed for the stairs.

  “Let’s go outside, shall we?” Maisano said to Kaye. “You’ll be astounded by the beauty of the falling sun.”

  The phrase instantly clicked in Kaye’s mind. The nickname of Tomoe Gozen, onna-musha.

  The remaining guard opened a wide, sliding glass panel the size of a barn door, then turned to Kaye and waved him through.

  Goschen followed, then Maisano, again holding Auggie by the arm and steering her along.

  It was a large space, paved with cobbles. The seating and plantings were all purposely low to the keep the view of the vineyards, undulating in the morning breeze like a rolling green sea, unobstructed. Maisano led Auggie to a bench near the edge of the space and sat her down. Kaye followed and stood only a few feet from her. She looked up at him and smiled vacantly.

  “Hey, I know you. You’re Johnny Strabler,” she said. Then her attention was caught by a soaring hawk and she looked away to track its flight.

  Kaye looked around. He could see the tail rotor and most of the fuselage of a helicopter beyond the corner of the house. But he could also tell that beyond the planters was nothing but air, the drop-off of the ha-ha fence Latham had described.

  Goschen walked over and stood so close to him he could feel the heat emanating from her. The tip of her tanto pressed against his lower abdomen.

  “Our business will be last, Benkei,” she whispered. “I have some housekeeping to do first.”

  “You’re not Tomoe Gozen,” Kaye said. “You’re a delusional –”

  “Oh, but I am,” she hissed back. “I have waited many lifetimes to avenge Yoshinaka, my Lord and husband. Now my tengu has answered my prayers and led me to you. Today you die again, Benkei, and this time you will fall.”

  “There is no honor in murder,” Kaye said, changing tactics. “Your sword is legendary, onna-musha. The Hayabusa. But so is mine. I challenge you to a fair fight.”

  Goschen’s gaze didn’t falter as she said, “No, Benkei. Today I assert tsujigiri to honor my new katana and let it taste your blood.”

  Kaye had no idea what she meant, and before he could ask his attention was drawn to the guard leading Elizabeth Latham out onto the patio.

  Goschen spun and walked to Latham.

  “Elizabeth,” she said. “Thank you for bringing Benkei to me. I appreciate it very much. But things have changed.”

  “Changed?” Latham echoed. “How so?”

  “I usually invite people to the house when they have gained my trust and I believe they are ready to join our enterprise,” Goschen said. “Unfortunately, I will not be able to extend that opportunity to you.”

  “I don’t understand,” Latham said, looking from Goschen to Maisano and back. “I’ve been a loyal Black Scimitar asset for almost two years. Are you firing me?”

  “Not exactly,” Goschen said.

  “I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” Maisano spoke up as he walked toward Latham. “But we have discovered that your true loyalties lie elsewhere.”

  “Elsewhere?” Latham asked, and Kaye saw the first hint of panic in her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “You work for the American federal government,” Maisano said. “Such a shame. Adrian was devastated to find out.”

  “But, I… That’s a lie… I don’t…” Latham started to protest, looking to Kaye for help.

  Kaye saw Goschen reach across her body with her right hand. He started forward, but the guard he’d overpowered on the stairs stepped in front of him, raised his Uzi and said, “Uh-uh.”

  Latham’s protest stopped as Goschen’s short blade slid easily through her ballistic vest and sunk into her abdomen.

  Kaye saw Goschen elbow jerk backwards as the sideways cut was made, then Goschen stepped back.

  Stunned, Latham was looking down as she tried to cover the gash with her hands, then she beseechingly looked again at Kaye.

  Goschen moved quickly, stepping around Latham and drawing her long blade.

  “Semper fi,” Latham managed to squeak just as Goschen’s vicious horizontal strike took off her head.

  As Latham collapsed to the cobbles Goschen, and her blade, kept moving. Taking a long, sliding sideways step she reversed
the stroke, looped the blade and, with a downward chop, severed the hand of the guard standing between her and Kaye.

  The hand, still grasping the Uzi, fell to the patio. Blood squirted from the shocked guard’s wrist as he turned and looked questioningly at Goschen.

  “You brought dishonor to my house and yourself on the stairs,” she said, then lunged forward and sunk her blade into his throat until a foot of bloody steel protruded from the back of his neck.

  She was a millisecond slow withdrawing the blade and the weight of the falling dead man overbalanced her, causing her to stagger slightly and put a hand to the ground to keep her balance as the guard went down.

  The second guard started to raise his Uzi toward Goschen, but Maisano stepped forward, pistol pointed at the man, and shouted, “Stand down!” Then he turned to Kaye and said, “I told you it would be beautiful,” before starting toward Goschen.

  While their backs were turned, Kaye saw his opportunity for escape.

  He reached for Auggie, yanked her to her feet, wrapped one giant arm around her waist, took three quick steps to the planter that edged the patio, planted a foot on it, and leapt into space.

  Auggie screamed.

  ***

  It was about fifteen feet, plus the planter height. With Auggie’s added weight it taxed even Kaye’s legs.

  There was a slight downgrade where he landed, and he used it to his advantage. With Auggie’s added weight he wasn’t able to stay on his feet, but did manage to avoid injury.

  He quickly gathered himself and looked up.

  An angry Goschen peered down from above.

  “I will catch you, Benkei!” she screamed. “You cannot escape me!”

  Maisano’s head appeared and he pointed his pistol down at them.

  Goschen stayed him with her arm and said something Kaye couldn’t make out, then both disappeared.

  Making sure he had a firm grip on Auggie, he took stock of his situation. From where he stood the ground sloped up, away from the ha-ha, to the grade of the vineyard.

  He moved as quickly as he could with Auggie in tow. At the top of the slope he saw that the vines had been planted to run directly away from the house for about a quarter mile. Beyond that, the rows looked to Kaye to change direction by almost ninety degrees.

  He’d be easily visible from the house until they reached the second planting area and could disappear between the rows.

  Kaye couldn’t see the hotel. The sun and shadows told him instantly that he had to be on the north side of the house.

  The wrong direction, he thought, then corrected himself. South would be no better. There’d be no help for them in the Village of Chumash Oaks. Renzo Maisano owned it, and everybody in it.

  There had to be other vineyards, other ranches in the hills, and they’d have phones. He’d just have to find one.

  He hadn’t gone fifty yards before he knew it would be faster if he just carried Auggie. He spun her around, bent down, put her across his back and shoulders in a fireman’s carry and started jogging north. When he reached the change in vine row direction, Kaye turned around to look behind him. He was just in time to see a figure step onto the patio planter, pause, then step off the wall.

  It had to be Goschen, and he knew she had likely seen them from atop the rampart before jumping. She, too, lost her footing, and he watched her gather herself and get reorganized.

  Then she came, and Kaye knew instantly he’d never outdistance her as long as he carried Auggie and Goschen could see him.

  He picked a row and started jogging again. The mature vines were slightly taller than he was, and he knew Goschen could no longer see them.

  But now he was no longer going north. In fact, because the vines were planted to take advantage of the natural contours of the land, he realized he was slowly turning to the east.

  “Shit,” he muttered, but kept going.

  A quarter mile later he came to a dirt road that crossed the rows of vines. He knew instantly that the vineyard wasn’t just endless rows of grape vines. There had to be access for workers, implements and equipment, and that meant a basic grid, even if it was modified for the terrain.

  The road led north and the hills looked tantalizingly closer, but Kaye knew he still had ground to cover.

  He turned north and started jogging again, his spirits buoyed. He now felt he had the advantage. Goschen could chase him forever in this giant, green maze without finding him before he found a way out.

  The key would be to not stay on the same road or row long enough to be seen from a distance. He counted ten rows, then turned left and headed west.

  He followed the row around the shoulder of a slight hill. Just as he reached an intersecting road that headed north and decided to take it, he heard a noise and stopped.

  It grew louder and Kaye instantly knew what it was.

  The helicopter.

  “Damn it,” he cursed.

  Game over.

  He started toward the access road again and made some decisions. He would choose the place, and he would need to be rested and ready.

  And he needed a weapon.

  At the crest of a small rise, he stopped and looked in all four directions. Northward from where he stood the road sloped gently downward. A hundred yards away there was an irregular, jagged break in the vines before the road started up toward the next rise. A lone tree, the only one for miles, grew at the low point of the road and Kaye realized the jagged line of vine ends marked a creek.

  That’s as good a place as any, he thought as he headed down the hill. As he got closer he saw a bridge spanning the creek, next to which grew the giant, ancient oak offering shade and concealment.

  The rudimentary bridge had no railing and the distance down to the creek was minimal, so Kaye carried Auggie into the oak’s deep shade and carefully propped her against its giant trunk.

  She stirred and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Ben?” she barely whispered. “Is that you? Oh, God, I knew you would come. Help me, Ben. Get me away from these people, please.”

  “I will,” he said, brushing her hair from her face. “I will. I promise.”

  “They drugged me,” she whispered.

  “I know. It’s okay. We’ll fix it.”

  “Where are we?” she asked, looking around.

  “Safe,” he replied, hearing the sound of the approaching helicopter.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, then instantly added, “No, I don’t care, as long as you’re there and it’s far away.”

  The helicopter flew directly overhead at an altitude of only a hundred feet and continued on its way.

  The tree had kept them from being seen.

  “Auggie, go back to sleep, okay? I’ll come get you when it’s time.”

  “Okay,” she said breathlessly, then opened her eyes and looked into Kaye’s. “I love you, Johnny Strabler,” she whispered, then laughed and sank back into a stupor.

  Kaye knew he had only minutes. He’d carried Auggie at least a mile and a half and his shirt was soaked. He clambered down the creek bank to see if there was water. A small trickle flowed over the rocky creek bottom. He studied it for a moment, then used his cupped hand to scoop it up and slake his thirst.

  He needed a weapon. Goschen would surely come with two, maybe even three, blades. Wood would be useless against the layered steel of a katana. He needed metal, the stouter the better.

  Kaye looked around. He stood on an island of shade in a sea of green. The end of a vine row caught his eye. It was anchored by a thick wooden pole that angled steeply away from the vines. A heavy cable, about ten feet long, was looped around the post near the top and anchored into the ground at a counter-angle. Two wires attached to the post disappeared into the vines at different heights, and Kaye saw what he thought was some kind of tensioning mechanism.

  He looked down the row. There was no chance those two wires supported the entire weight of the vines over that kind of distance, no matter how taut you could make them.


  There had to be more posts.

  Please let them be metal, he thought as he stepped into the sun and trotted to the closest vine.

  He found it only twenty feet in. A standard green and white metal t-post used by ranchers and farmers everywhere to string fence wire. The tensioned support wires passed through small grommets, attached between studs, that allowed the wires to slide, but still provide support. Kaye guessed that there was five feet of post, mostly obscured by vines, above ground.

  It might work. If he could get it out of the ground.

  Kaye started tearing away the vines. Soon the post stood exposed., surrounded by a circle of leafy green debris.

  But he was immediately stymied. He had no way to cut the wires, and no way to remove the grommet attachments, which meant the post was still part of a larger structure, and the clock was ticking.

  Frustrated, he grabbed the post with both hands and used all his strength in an attempt to loosen it from the soil. From the angles, he guessed it was sunk in some two feet, and he knew it had a barb near the bottom to keep it in.

  When he felt the post was as loose as it would get by pulling and pushing it back and forth, Kaye stepped in, half-squatted, grabbed it with both hands as far down as he could, and pulled mightily. After a few seconds of resistance the post came loose.

  But before it came completely out of the ground it came up against the tension of the wires and stopped.

  “Damn, damn, damn,” Kaye muttered, although he felt like screaming.

  He’d have to break the attachments somehow or the entire effort would be a waste of time.

  He tried his hands, but the hardware was too small for him to get a grip and too tightly attached for him to pry loose.

  He needed a hammer. He thought how easy it would be if he was just in his shop overlooking the Pacific, and how absurd it would be to die in the middle of a bunch of grapes for lack of a hammer.

  “Think, Ben,” he said aloud, his hands wrapped around the top wire on either side of the t-post. “Think!”

  He looked around. There wasn’t even a decent-sized rock around.

  He let go of the wire, ran to the bridge and scrambled down into the creek bed. Rocks everywhere, but they all seemed to be round, weathered smooth by eons of tumbling in the stream. He need one with an edge, something he could strike with.