The Fixer, Season 1

by Rex Carpenter

  JC sighed. Readying the procession of information in his mind.

  “After my first meeting with the senator, Kowalski and I had an altercation. I took one of his government SUVs and all the guns from his team. He sent a two-man Bolivian hit team after me to say thanks. When that didn’t pan out, he put Detective Campbell on my scent before I landed in L.A. He wanted me out of the picture. That didn’t work either so Kowalski set us up on the raid of Franklin’s place outside Henderson. His reasons were three-fold: get the .50 caliber sniper rifle, set us up for mass murder and have a patsy, real or fictitious, to feed to the press when they start sniffing around the senator’s assassination.” JC paused. Sighed. “Kowalski and I have been going at it ever since that first meeting with Senator Marcus. I didn’t really understand why. We used to be friends but something has been off with him ever since that first meeting.”

  “That’s it? A feeling? You beat him up, take his toys and then he kills the senator?” Meier’s disapproving frown was practiced and effective. “Come on.”

  JC shook his head. “Kowalski didn’t like me being brought in from the start. Told me so. The senator was dying from cancer. She asks me to help her end her life early. I promise her compassion and discretion for a hefty price in front of Kowalski. After that I think he decided to do the job instead of us. Maybe find a way to get the money for himself.”

  Meier was shaking his head. “No way. Person like Kowalski, he’s gung-ho. All-American hero type of action figure. He just doesn’t decide to assassinate a United States senator on the off-chance he can make some cash.” He looked at the TV. “It’s got to be something more.”

  JC was quiet. The one thing that had been bothering him was why Kowalski had decided to kill the senator. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it just the cash? Professional animosity between Kowalski and himself?

  “Unless he was planning it all along,” Duke said absently. Watching the TV.

  Meier and JC turned to him. He glanced at them. Did a double-take once he saw the seriousness of their faces.

  “If you’re right, Meier,” Duke continued, hesitantly, then gaining confidence, “and Kowalski didn’t just up and decide to kill her and pin it on JC, then he must have been planning to kill her for longer than we’ve been in the picture. We show up, ruin his plan. First he tries to kill JC, and likely us, but we got the drop on the Bolivians. Then he kills your son and tries to pin it on JC. That didn’t work so he decides to utilize his position as the go-between for the senator and our team. Change the plan from a quiet death in the night to something big and public that he can nail us with. Used us to get the sniper rifle for him while at the same time hopefully getting us locked up for mass murder.”

  Duke paused. Looked back and forth between the two men. They were both still listening, waiting for him to finish laying out his ideas. “The first part worked,” Duke said. “We got the sniper rifle, handed it over to him for safe-keeping. The second part didn’t — Franklin and his little band of travelers are safe and sound. Thing is, Kowalski doesn’t know it yet. That will blow a big hole in his attempt to take us down for the senator’s death. Plus,” Duke smiled, “he doesn’t know we had changed the plan. He doesn’t know we were planning to wound the senator, not kill her.”

  Meier smiled. Withering. “So you plan to convince… whomever… that you are innocent of the murder of Senator Marcus because you were plotting to only shoot her?” Shook his head. “Good luck.” His smile disappeared. “Besides. Still doesn’t explain why he killed my son.”

  “Your son,” JC said, “was the only other person besides our team and Kowalski who could possibly have known of the senator’s request. If Kowalski was planning to kill the senator back then, murdering your son was a way of tying up loose ends before she was killed.”

  Meier shook his head. “Could it be so mundane? Murdered because of what he might have known?”

  JC nodded. Knew it would never make sense. His own father went out for an early morning jog and never came back. Hit and killed by a sleepy tour bus operator. Survived a long and distinguished career in the Army just to be run down by some guy who should have had an extra cup of coffee.

  In JC’s experience, death rarely held a purpose.

  Except for Kowalski’s, JC thought. That will be revenge.

  “I want to talk to him,” Meier said. Strong. Confident.

  JC stared back. Confused. “Who?”

  “Kowalski. I want to talk to him. Here. In my house.”

  Chapter 49

  You Owe Me Now

  JC knew it was a bad idea. Could waste time explaining all the reasons why it shouldn’t happen. Why he wouldn’t allow it. But he understood the feeling. Understood the motivation. And if Kowalski failed Meier’s unnaturally canny BS detection system? Well, having the lawyer on his side could only help him.

  JC nodded.

  “Uhh, boss?” Duke said.

  JC ignored him. Continued to stare at Meier.

  “What do you need from me?” JC said to the older man.

  “Let me call my lawyer before you make your call.”

  “Call him. I’ll call Kowalski from my burner. Outside. Keep him on long enough to trace the call. Somebody will be bashing down your door within five minutes. Good enough?”

  “My lawyer lives around the corner. He’ll be here in two.”

  Meier put down the remote. Reached for his phone. JC turned and headed for the sliding glass door leading to the backyard.

  Duke didn’t move. Meier turned back. Looked at him. Waiting.

  “We have another problem,” Duke said. “Karen Garcia is being held by her own department for questioning.”

  JC rolled his eyes in irritation as he turned around. Karen can wait, dammit. She’s not going to be locked up forever like we are if we get caught. Saw Meier looking intently at Duke. Taking him seriously. JC held his tongue.

  “Explain,” Meier said.

  “Garcia was instrumental in securing JC’s release from the Bolivians in the valley. Her partner, Detective Campbell, is out for her badge. He’s lobbying to get her thrown off the force. Whispering the wrong things in the right ears.” Duke paused. “She could go to jail.”

  “Can you help her?” Meier said.

  “At the moment, no,” Duke said. “We’re up to our necks in the mess Kowalski’s put us in. Right now we simply don’t have time. Can you?”

  Meier listened. Eyes never left Duke’s face. The younger man was JC’s employee and it would have been easy to defer to the boss. At least with the slightest of glances. But Meier didn’t. Kept his eyes focused on Duke. JC admired him for it. Grateful for giving the younger man his moment. And impressed with the story Duke was spinning based on what little knowledge of the situation he truthfully had.

  “That depends. Was she directly involved?” Meier said.

  “With the thing in the valley? Yes, she was. But her partner, Campbell, is trying to set her up for more involvement than actually took place. I think it’s working.”

  Meier was quiet. Phone still in his hand. Evaluating. Duke’s impatience got the best of him.

  “I know what your deal with JC is. You help get Karen out of this, clear her, I will personally owe you. Same deal as JC.”

  JC was standing just behind Duke so his junior partner couldn’t see him close his eyes, slowly shake his head and place his hand over his face.

  Meier smiled. The smile of a wolf about to enter into a deal with a sheep. “You know the details of my deal with your boss?”

  “Yes,” Duke bluffed. “Same deal for me.”

  Meier sighed. “Son, I shouldn’t tell you this, but you and your team have given me the best hope yet of finding my son’s killer, so I’m feeling generous. First, trust your boss until he gives you reason not to. Or find a new boss. Second, don’t bluff when you don’t know the first damn thing about the situation. Third, don’t try to outsmart an old lawyer like myself. It’ll bite you in the ass every time. Fourth an
d final, in negotiations, never offer more than you have to.”

  Duke was agitated. Embarrassed.

  “Now, don’t get steamed,” Meier continued. “That was just some friendly advice from a tired old man who’s been around far too many blocks far too many times.” He put the phone down. Sighed. Looked at JC who nodded. Turned back to Duke. “You, JC, Joan and that other guy have pretty much fulfilled the conditions of my deal with JC, so there’s nothing to replicate with you.”

  Duke started to protest. Meier raised a hand. Silencing him.

  “Hold on there, junior,” Meier said. “L.A. has been my home for nearly forty years. For better or for worse, I love this town. We need more police like Garcia and far, far fewer like Campbell. You tell me he’s setting her up, I believe you. You tell me we need to get her out of jail, we will. You tell me Campbell is as dirty as I imagine him to be, willing to crucify one of his own, I say let’s string that crooked slimeball up.”

  Meier stood. Walked over to a side table. Pulled out a pen and pad of paper. Wrote on it while speaking to Duke. “I don’t have the local pull I used to, but I still have some. You guys go. My first call is to my lawyer. Second call is to BHPD Chief of Police. After that, the mayor, if I have the time. Or I think it’s necessary.” He finished writing. Tore off the top sheet. Gave it to Duke. Turned to JC. “Seems like your interests and your partner’s here intersect. I think you both have a burning desire to have a little chat with Detective Campbell. You,” he said, indicating JC, “to sort out what he knows about Kowalski and their level of entanglement.” Turned to Duke. “And you to have him confess his sins in regards to the lovely Ms. Karen.”

  “You looking for legally admissible?” JC said.

  “I cannot advise you to break any laws of any kind. Especially when it comes to the kidnapping, illegal questioning, recording and possible torture of an officer of the law,” Meier dead-panned. “However, were such a heinous crime to occur, and said recordings were delivered to the man on the other end of that phone number, an Officer Sullivan, they would land on the desk of the Chief of Detectives within the hour.” Meier looked between the two killers in his den. “Likely help Garcia. Likely get you more ammunition to take down Kowalski.”

  Meier turned and walked towards the front of the house. Punching numbers into the handset of his cordless phone. Stopped, looked over his shoulder. “Mr. Ellsworth?”

  “Yes, sir?” Duke said.

  “You owe me now.”

  Duke nodded as Meier continued dialing and walking. JC and Duke turned and headed back towards the kitchen and out into the back yard.

  “Still feel like Pesci in Casino? Junior?” JC asked.

  “Yeah, after he gets beaten nearly dead by his own crew and thrown into a hole. Thanks for hanging me out to dry there, boss.”

  Although the embarrassment at having his bluff called surely stung, JC knew Duke’s irritation was more self-directed than not. He shrugged. “I told you Karen was on my list of things to take care of. Just not near the top. One call from me to Meier later in the day would have sufficed.”

  “You knew he would help Karen out?”

  “Figured he would.”

  “But you let me hang my ass out over this anyway?”

  “Nope. You went toe-to-toe with a brilliant lawyer and lost. No shame in that. He gave you some valuable advice. He’s given us a great idea to both help Karen and put the screws to Kowalski.”

  Duke was quiet. JC pulled out his disposable phone. “Go get the car started while I make this call. Then let’s go pick up Campbell.”

  “And nail Kowalski,” Duke said.

  “And spring Garcia,” JC said.

  Chapter 50

  Rendered to Another Country

  JC stood in the middle of Meier’s spacious backyard while Duke hopped the fence and ran back the way they came, getting into and starting the car. JC took out his cellphone. Sighed. Then called Kowalski.

  He anticipated it would take Kowalski about five minutes to track him to the location he was at. Less, more than likely. Hang up too fast and there’s no way to triangulate where the phone call was made from. Stay on too long and you’re nabbed. Balancing act. Delicate balancing act.

  The phone rang.

  Again.

  “Kowalski.”

  JC smiled. Viciously.

  “Looking for me, buddy?”

  JC heard what he guessed was Kowalski snapping his fingers and then all the background noise in the call went quiet. Trying to get the trace going. He figured Kowalski wouldn’t be recording. He was too smart for that.

  “Bannister, you need to come in. It’ll be the best thing for everyone.”

  “Really? Everyone? Does that include me?”

  “Come on, James. You know what you’ve done. Know what you’re facing.”

  “You don’t get to call me James!” JC yelled, partly in the hopes of riling Kowalski up so he would make a mistake, partly out of real irritation. “She could. But you don’t have that right.”

  “Why did you kill her, JC?” Kowalski continued. “I mean, what was the reason?”

  “Nobody’s listening, are they?”

  “No, no, you’re right about that,” Kowalski said, answering the question without actually answering the question.

  “So it’s just you and me?”

  “What did I just say, JC? I said you were right about that.”

  “Okay. Then let me be clear. I know you killed her.”

  “Really? How do you figure that?”

  “Because I gave you the sniper rifle,” JC said, “and you used it to kill the senator.”

  “JC, listen to me. We’ve already got the sniper rifle you used. Your prints were all over it.”

  “That’s why you sent us out to the desert, wasn’t it? So you could have us bring the .50 cal right to you. Make it real easy for you.”

  “Yes, yes, that’s what I’m saying, man. You’ve got to come in. I mean, we’ve got you dead-to-rights on this whole thing. All of it. We’ve got our tech guys out in the desert right now, combing through the debris. You killed all those people for nothing. I don’t understand why you did it, James, but we’ve got the bodies and the forensic evidence to prove it.”

  JC paused. “Really? Is that what you’ve got?”

  Kowalski hesitated for the first time. JC looked at his watch. Time to go. Kowalski had enough to get a rough estimate of his location. Maybe not enough to pinpoint exactly where JC was, but close enough to put two and two together and come up with the right answer.

  “Well, if you’ve got everything sewn up in a nice neat package, why are you sweating so much right now?” JC said. “Call me James again and I’ll throw you a beating the next time I see you. Pretty much like every time I see you. You know you fight like a girl?”

  “I’m going to catch you. You know that? I’m going to be the one to bring you down. James.” Kowalski said.

  JC smiled. “Next time I see you, Guy, I’m not going to smack you around.” JC looked up in the sky. Thought he saw a glint high up amongst the wispy clouds. Raised his hand in a one-finger salute. “No, the next time I see you, I am going to beat you to death.” Paused. “You hear me?” Pulled his arm down and started walking towards Duke’s waiting car. “I am going to beat you. To death.”

  He ended the call. Tossed the cellphone over his shoulder, landing it in Meier’s yard as he vaulted over the wooden fence.

  *****

  The raid on Jacob Meier’s house came about seven minutes after JC finished his phone call. Which was about three minutes after Meier’s lawyer, Raymond Straub, arrived. Meier hadn’t been joking. Straub lived around the corner. In fact, to be more accurate, he lived behind Jacob’s house since they were both corner lots. After Meier made his phone call he looked out the sliding glass door into his backyard. Saw JC going over the fence. Meier turned and went into his bedroom. Took the Beretta semi-automatic shotgun from behind the bedroom door where it always stayed and put it in
the closet. Checked to make sure his SIG Sauer P226 9mm handgun was secured and locked in the bedside table. Went back out, unlocked the front door. Went into the kitchen. Brought the coffee pot, two mugs, cream and sugar over to the kitchen table. Sat down. Made the phone calls he had promised Duke. Waited.

  Straub let himself in through the front door as always. Didn’t lock it behind himself. Called out for his friend who guided him into the kitchen. He sat. Placed his cell phone on the table. Poured a cup for himself and Meier. Put cream and sugar in his. Left Meier’s black.

  “Well? Does this have something to do with the two guys running through my yard a few minutes ago?”

  Meier nodded.

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “Not really. We’ll be having visitors soon. I wanted someone who was on my side when they come.”

  “Glad you called.” Sipped his coffee. “Your guns secure?”

  “Secure enough.”

  They heard Kowalski’s assault team about a minute later. No matter how quiet or well-trained the team may have been, in a sleepy residential neighborhood at ten thirty in the morning, a handful of SUVs pulling up suddenly and swiftly is going to create a certain amount of noise. Raymond looked out of the sliding glass door into the backyard. Saw half a dozen men in full SWAT gear approaching the house. Put down his coffee cup.

  “They’re not going to shoot me, are they?”

  Meier smiled. “Don’t worry, old friend. I’ll jump in front of the bullet.”

  “You’d better. Otherwise I’m billing you by the hour for my hospital stay.”

  Seconds later the team breached the house. One agent slammed a hand-held battering ram against the front door, splintering the door frame and rocketing it backwards into the entryway. Kowalski was half a second behind the door, kicking it aside as it bounced back towards him. Simultaneously, a member of the six-man team in the back threw one of the cast-iron lawn chairs against the sliding glass door, shattering it as the five others crouch-walked across the kitchen, guns trained at the two senior citizens drinking coffee. Eight other Secret Service agents streamed through the front door after Kowalski, fanning out through the house. They were all yelling loudly with adrenaline and the desire to intimidate anyone who was in the house.