Dead Lawyers Don't Lie: A Gripping Thriller (Jake Wolfe Book 1)

by Mark Nolan

  Jake wanted to take another shot at Zhukov but there were just too many people in cars and on the sidewalks that could get hit by a ricochet. Agent Greene held her fire for the same reason, and because she felt woozy from when Zhukov had slammed the panel door into her head. She was realizing now that the injury might be more serious than what she’d told the nurses. When she’d awakened on the gurney, she had climbed off of it and then grabbed her gun and Kevlar vest, and jogged to the elevators. The nurses had protested but Greene didn’t care. She was angry and sore and she wanted to shoot Zhukov.

  The helicopter appeared overhead and shone a spotlight down at the rear vehicle and then switched to the front vehicle. When the light was not shining at Jake, he leaned out the car window and looked up and saw the large FBI markings on the bottom of the helicopter. “That’s an FBI bird above us.”

  “They probably don’t know which car is being driven by Zhukov,” Greene said.

  Jake entered a phone number into his throwaway phone by memory. His friend Agent Knight answered the call while he was watching TV at home with his family.

  “Knight.”

  “This is Jake Wolfe. I’m with Agent Easton and we have a situation. We’re in a car chasing after the attorney assassin. Your FBI helicopter is flying overhead in pursuit. Can you get in touch with your crew and have one of the agents call me on the phone number you see on your screen? It’s an emergency. I have information they need, and they might try to shoot our vehicle by mistake.”

  “Jake, I recognize your voice but not your phone number,” Knight said. “What you’re saying doesn’t make any sense. You might be calling me under duress. I’m going to have an Agent in the helicopter call Easton’s phone. How would that work for you?”

  Jake cursed and said, “Yes but do it fast because people might die if you don’t.”

  Easton took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Jake. A moment later Easton’s phone buzzed. Jake put the phone on speaker and thumbed the icon to answer the call. Easton said, “Agent Easton here.”

  A female voice said, “This is FBI Special Agent Reynolds. What’s going on Easton?” The sound of the helicopter rotor blades could be heard in the background of Reynolds’ call.

  Jake said, “Easton is driving so I’ll brief you Reynolds. We are below you in the black Suburban. In pursuit of the stolen Ford Police Interceptor. The attorney assassin is alone in the lead vehicle. Take a shot at him when you feel it’s safe from the risk of collateral damage.”

  “I can’t fire at a police vehicle, are you crazy?” Reynolds said. “Who is this? Identify yourself, your voice sounds familiar. How do I know that really was Easton on the phone?”

  “I’m working with Easton. Put your spotlight on the vehicle in back, and Easton will wave his badge at you.”

  Easton held his badge in his hand and waved it out the window. “This is Easton, I’m waving my hand. Now take that light off of my vehicle so I can see where I’m driving.”

  Reynolds looked through her weapon’s scope and saw a close-up view of Easton’s badge. She moved the spotlight to shine down on the Ford Police Interceptor up ahead. Then Reynolds suddenly remembered where she’d heard the voice before. “Is this Jake Wolfe I’m talking to? What the hell!”

  “Yes, this is Jake. Think about it, Reynolds. I’m with Easton. You saw him gain my release from the FBI with a letter from the president and a phone call from your own director. Shoot the driver of the lead vehicle as soon as you can take a clean shot. The car has been armored so you’ll want to aim for the pillar between the driver’s window and the passenger window behind him.”

  Reynolds cursed. “Wolfe if you’ve lied to me about this, I’ll put you in prison and throw away the key.”

  Jake looked at the car’s GPS. “Easton, I think Zhukov may be heading for Pier 39. They have a 300-slip marina. He could steal a boat and escape on the water.”

  Easton tapped the screen on the dashboard, and it displayed an image of Agent McKay.

  “Agent McKay, Wolfe believes the target is heading toward Pier 39. Possibly to escape on a boat.”

  “Understood. I’ll inform the SFPD Marine patrol to intercept on the water if necessary.”

  “The FBI has a helicopter overhead right now with Agent Reynolds onboard. She can try to take out Zhukov.”

  “Good work, we definitely appreciate an assist from an FBI sharpshooter.”

  “Did you hear that Reynolds?” Jake said.

  “I heard it, we’re on it,” Reynolds said. “This helicopter has heat-seeking technology. It shows one human form heat signature in the driver’s seat of the police SUV.”

  Jake said, “Agent McKay can you formally request our FBI Agent in the sky to shoot Zhukov?”

  “Agent Reynolds, this is US Secret Service Agent Shannon McKay in Washington DC. Easton is on a mission directed by the president. It’s a matter of national security, and Wolfe is working with the government on this. We formally request that you shoot the driver of the police vehicle. I can get FBI Director Walker out of bed again and on the phone if you need his reassurance.”

  Reynolds cursed loudly and poetically at McKay and ended the call. She lined up a shot at the driver of the police SUV, said a silent prayer that this was not a mistake, and began firing her weapon.

  Her first shot hit the driver door window and ricocheted off of the bulletproof glass. Her second shot hit the roof and failed to penetrate the armor. Her third shot hit the left front tire, but the run-flat tire kept on rolling. She took careful aim and lined up a shot at the pillar next to the driver’s window.

  Beth Cushman drove the borrowed police car at high speed as she tried to catch up to the two fleeing SUVs. Terrell’s phone buzzed with a call from Jake.

  “We think Zhukov is heading toward Pier 39.”

  “I’ll call that in to HQ, ” Terrell said.

  Terrell picked up the police car’s radio and asked dispatch to send units to Pier 39, and get the police boats on the way there too.

  Beth took a shortcut that she hoped might get her to the Pier faster. With her siren wailing and her lights flashing, she roared down a side street and expertly handled the vehicle as she drifted through intersections. Terrell used his remote to turn all of the stoplights green along the way.

  Up ahead of them Beth saw some people who appeared to be inebriated and loitering in the middle of the street, having an impromptu party. Beth got on her loudspeakers and yelled, “I can’t stop. No brakes. Run for your lives.”

  The drunken people scattered in all directions and Beth drove through the intersection while laughing over the loudspeaker.

  Terrell said, “What if someone calls that in?”

  “This isn’t my car, what do I care?” Beth said.

  “That’s just wrong,” Terrell said, but he laughed.

  When Beth got closer to the Pier, she saw a civilian vehicle ahead of her that had a single flashing police light attached to its roof on the driver’s side. Beth stepped on the gas pedal to catch up. “Do you recognize that car up ahead? It looks similar to Denton’s car.”

  Terrell got on the radio to Dispatch again. “What kind of personal car is Sergeant Denton driving lately? Didn’t she get a new one?”

  “Denton recently bought a dark blue Mustang,” the dispatcher said, and she recited the license plate.

  “Tell the Chief I think I see Denton’s vehicle heading toward Pier 39.”

  “I’ll report that to the Chief right now.”

  A large truck pulled across the road and began slowly backing up to a loading dock, blocking Beth’s progress for a moment. Beth lost sight of the car she was following, and she turned on the siren while Terrell yelled at the truck driver on the car speakers. The driver stopped backing up and instead drove across the street into a different loading area, clearing the road. Beth waved her thanks to the driver and roared off to catch up with the Mustang.

  Zhukov heard a round ricochet off of his window. Another round hit th
e vehicle roof. A third round hit the left front tire. It continued to roll, but not as well as the other three tires. His vehicle suddenly pulled to the left and he almost crashed. He wrestled with the wheel and got the vehicle driving straight again. Then a round hit the pillar behind his left shoulder. The bullet got through and went past his ear and into the dashboard. He cursed and started driving in an evasive way to avoid another pillar shot.

  He was almost to Pier 39 when the helicopter showed up in front of his vehicle. It hovered and turned sideways so the open door was facing his vehicle. A woman aimed a rifle at him and sprayed his windshield with a barrage of automatic weapons fire. The polycarbonate/glass windshield remained intact, but it was soon covered with cracks, pockmarks and white starbursts that blocked his view. He could just barely see out of an undamaged spot in the upper left corner of the windshield. He was almost driving blind when he arrived at Pier 39 and drove up over the sidewalk and onto the lawn in front of the boat slips. He exited the car, put on his backpack and ran toward the boats.

  The helicopter appeared above him and Zhukov heard a voice on the loudspeaker. “This is the FBI. Stop and put your hands over your head or I’ll shoot to kill.”

  Zhukov drew his pistol, fired at the helicopter and continued running. Bullets started to rip into the grass alongside him as he ran. He zig-zagged and veered away. The gunfire caused groups of tourists to scream and run in all directions like stampeding cattle. The helicopter stopped firing at him for a moment as the panicked civilians crisscrossed the lawn.

  He reached the boat slips and saw all kinds of vessels. One small cabin cruiser had its twin outboard engines idling. The people on board were preparing to depart. Zhukov ran toward the boat, intending to steal it. If he had to kill the people on board, he would not hesitate.

  Chapter 117

  Easton arrived at Pier 39 and parked the Suburban near the stolen police SUV. As he reported the situation to McKay, Jake got out and took off sprinting as fast as he could. When Jake was in high school and college he’d run in track and field competitions. Greene and Easton watched Jake for a moment in amazement at his burst of speed, and then Greene took off running to catch up with him. Easton ended the call with McKay and ran in the direction Greene was headed.

  Moments later, Beth and Terrell arrived at the Pier. Beth parked the borrowed police vehicle and everybody got out.

  Terrell saw the two SUVs there, parked on the lawn. Both vehicles were empty. He looked at his police SUV’s shot-up windshield and he shook his head. “Well, at least I know the bulletproof windshield works as advertised.”

  Beth heard a police radio crackle and she saw a Mustang parked off to her right. She ran to the Mustang and made positive ID of Denton’s license plate. Terrell provided cover for her with his pistol.

  Cody ran off and began following the scent trails of Jake and Zhukov. Sarah ran after Cody and stayed close to him as he worked. She knew that she should wait in the police car, but her instinct to protect Cody was overriding her fears.

  Beth looked in the Mustang’s open window and saw a police radio walkie-talkie and an open bottle of gin on the passenger seat. There was also a bottle of prescription meds and a folded piece of paper. She checked the meds and the paper and was surprised by what she saw. She hated to do this, but she had no choice. She called the Chief, and he answered immediately.

  “Chief Pierce here, what do you have Cushman?”

  “I found Denton’s vehicle. She’s here at Pier 39. There’s an open container of alcohol in her car and a pill bottle of medicine that wasn’t prescribed by our police psychiatrist.”

  “What kind of drug is it?”

  “It’s a psychiatric drug. There’s a paper with it listing all kinds of potentially dangerous side effects. I believe she’s suffering from a lot of these. It explains her changes in behavior. The anger, paranoia, and constant pacing.”

  “You’re right. Denton went to a private doctor. She paid with her own money and didn’t tell the doctor that she was a cop. Now she’s on some strong meds that she shouldn’t be using, and mixing them with alcohol. We need to get her into detox. I’m giving the order for you to find her and detain her. Use a Taser and put handcuffs on her if you have to. It’s for her own good.”

  “Yes sir. If those are your orders, I’ll follow them.”

  “Those are my orders. Denton is probably a good cop but right now she’s having an emotional breakdown. We can’t allow that to happen. We need to prevent her from harming herself or anyone else, or causing a media nightmare for the police department.”

  “I’m on it Chief.”

  Beth took off running toward another set of stairs to her right that Denton had probably taken down to the boat slips. If Beth ran fast enough, she might come up behind Denton and stun her with a Taser. Beth looked at Terrell and saw that he was already moving toward the other entrance to the boat slips. They gave each other hand signals and then ran even faster.

  Zhukov sprinted down the wooden dock and climbed onboard the boat he’d seen that had its engines running. He punched a man who tried to stop him, knocking him into the water. Another man and a woman on the boat came charging toward Zhukov, but he fired a shot into the air and yelled at them to abandon ship. The woman was smart and she leaped onto the dock, but the man grabbed a speargun and he pointed it at the intruder. Zhukov shot him in the arm, and the man dropped the speargun and cried out in shock. As he tried to get off the boat, he stumbled and fell into the water.

  “Untie those lines,” Zhukov said to the woman and he pointed his weapon at her.

  She hesitated in fear so he fired a shot into the wooden dock between her feet. She dropped to her knees and began to quickly untie the lines. For a moment, Zhukov was tempted to take the woman as a hostage, but he decided that she would just slow him down.

  The woman understood the look that passed across Zhukov’s face as he thought over whether or not to kidnap her, and she vomited into the water in primal fear.

  Zhukov thought that she reminded him of a nice neighbor he’d had in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn. He had always liked that woman.

  “Lay face-down on the dock with your hands on the back of your head. There’s going to be gunfire here but if you stay down and don’t move you’ll probably survive.”

  The astonished woman went prone on the dock and put her hands on the back of her head. Zhukov worked the boat’s controls, making the twin engines roar, and the vessel took off toward the bay at a fast clip. The marina had a posted five-mile-an-hour no-wake zone but he was going very fast. His boat made waves that rocked many of the other boats. It caused a chorus of shouted complaints from people on the neighboring vessels.

  Jake ran up to the boat slips and saw Zhukov at the helm of a fast moving cabin cruiser. He fired off several rounds at the assassin.

  Zhukov heard the gunfire behind him and saw a bullet hole appear in his windshield. He turned and saw Jake, then fired his weapon as he yelled, “Since when did photojournalists become vigilantes?”

  “Welcome to America,” Jake said, and he returned fire.

  Jake took cover behind a large wooden storage box as several rounds hit near him and went into the wood. He scanned the nearby boats for one that could catch up with the escaping vessel. A sport cruiser with an open cockpit was arriving at the guest boat area. Jake ran to the boat and jumped onboard before the surprised man had brought the boat to a complete stop. Jake showed the man his pistol and his US Marshals Badge.

  “I’m commandeering your vessel. You’ll be compensated by the US Marshals Service. Get off the boat right now or go to jail. Move.”

  The man looked at the pistol and badge, and he quickly jumped onto the dock. Jake took the helm, maneuvered the boat out of the slip and turned the vessel toward open water. He was about to increase speed when SFPD Sergeant Cori Denton came running down the dock and yelled, “Wolfe!”

  Jake reflexively turned his head in response to hearing his name, and Denton shot at him se
veral times. One of the rounds grazed Jake’s side, above his hip. His Kevlar vest deflected the bullet as it grazed him but the impact spun him sideways onto the controls. His shoulder flattened the throttles against the dash, causing the boat to roar ahead at full speed with nobody steering it.

  Denton took aim again, resting her right hand on her bleeding left bicep with the self-inflicted cuts, as she lined up a head shot. But before she could fire off a round, Agent Greene appeared out of the dark and said, “Federal Agent, drop your weapon.”

  Denton ignored Greene and shot at Jake, missing him as his stolen boat rocketed across the water at full throttle. Greene was about to fire her weapon at Denton, but then she saw the SFPD badge on Denton’s belt. Greene holstered her pistol and ran and tackled Denton, slamming her onto the wooden dock and knocking her pistol out of her hand. Denton began wrestling and punching and kicking at Greene.

  Greene fought hard, but Denton was under the influence of meds and alcohol and anger. Denton elbowed Greene in the ribs, grabbed a fistful of her hair and then punched her as hard as she could on the injured spot on her forehead. The punch caused Greene to see stars in her eyes. She ducked her head to the side to protect her injury and threw several brutal jabs to Denton’s face, using the tactile feedback of her striking fists to find the vulnerable area around the eyes and nose.

  Denton was feeling numb and highly agitated so she shook it off. She was getting to her knees to attack again when Greene used her faster reactions to stand up quickly and kick Denton so hard in the stomach that it knocked the wind out of her. Denton doubled over and grunted in pain but then she swept her arm behind Greene’s ankles and made her fall onto her back. Greene hit the dock and saw Denton leap at her with a raised fist, but she used her position of being flat on her back as an advantage. She bent both legs at the knee and then kicked her feet up hard, sending Denton flying right over her and into the water. Denton hit the water with a splash, thrashed around and came back to the surface. She started to climb back onto the dock, cursing at Greene as she did.