by Mel LeBrun
“I'm surprised I haven't seen a chopper yet,” Jessica said.
The remark prompted Michael and Gomez to check the sky. It was clear, but wouldn't be for much longer. Traffic thinned and soon they were the only ones on the highway.
“This isn't good,” Jessica verbalized what everyone else was thinking.
They all saw it at the same time. A road block ahead. A few police cars were parked across the highway. With a cement barrier on both sides there wasn't any way around them. They intentionally left an opening in the middle big enough for a car to go through where they placed spike strips.
Michael cursed loudly in distress. He looked behind them and could see the van way off in the distance.
“Don't worry. I got it,” Jessica assured him.
“Got what? We're sunk once we hit those spike strips!”
“I'm not going that way. There's a gap on the left between the wall and the cruiser.”
Michael looked at the gap. “It's not big enough.”
“I know. I'm gonna have to push through.”
“At this speed, you'll kill us.”
“I know what I'm doing.”
Michael quickly buckled his seat belt hoping she did know what she was doing. The situation looked bleak.
Reducing her speed, Jessica approached the road block as if she was going through the opening they left in the middle. She wanted them to think she was going to go for it. At the last second, she veered to the left and slammed on the brakes. She dropped her speed down to about thirty five miles an hour and then accelerated into the back corner of the police car and pushed through. The front end and side of the BMW was a mess, but they were through the road block.
The cops hadn't expected that and weren't prepared. When the van tried to do the same thing, however, they were able to get the drop on them and threw a second set of spike strips under the van.
Michael watched the sparks flying from the wheels of the van after it lost its tires. One of the police cars broke away from the road block and started after them, followed by the other cruisers that were also in pursuit.
“We have to lose them now or it will never happen,” Michael stated anxiously.
Jessica had gunned it as soon as they were past the roadblock. She kept accelerating as they approached an off ramp. She didn't slow even as she drove down the ramp until she was nearly at the end. She hit the brakes and did another sliding turn, stopping the car under the highway.
She kept it in gear and waited. Cars slowly drove by as their occupants gaped at the shot up and partially demolished car parked on the side of the road. About twenty seconds later, they heard sirens pass overhead.
Michael jumped from the car and stepped into the street pointing his gun at a black Ford Taurus that was passing. He ordered the driver out and called for Jessica and Gomez to get in. Terrified, Eddie clutched his father in a death grip as they changed cars. After relieving the driver of his cell phone, they drove away as a helicopter flew by overhead. A second later and they would not have gotten away.
They parked a few blocks away in a shopping plaza. Everyone sat quietly, not sure what their next move was.
Michael turned to Jessica. “There's no way you learned to drive like that from a video game.”
“Well, that answer might have been a little deceiving. It wasn't the first time I've driven like that. I played a lot of racing games when I was a teen and did a lot of crazy things once I started driving. I've always been a bit fearless behind the wheel.”
“No kidding,” Gomez replied sarcastically.
Michael just stared at her.
They could still hear sirens in the distance and the sky was filled with news and police helicopters now. There would be an all-out manhunt for them. They had to get out of the area fast.
Michael directed Gomez and Jessica to a toy store in the plaza. “Go in and start shopping. Try to look natural. I'm going to see if I can get a phone and call Josh and Martin to come get us. I'll find you when I do. If you see cops, don't panic, just try to stay out of sight.” He glanced at Eddie clutching his father, looking traumatized. He looked back at Gomez. “You're shopping for him. I'm buying, so get whatever he wants within reason.”
Gomez nodded.
MARTIN WAS expecting Josh to call for more info as they'd been in almost constant contact. He was surprised, but relieved to hear Michael's voice instead.
“Michael, where are you? There was a report of a shootout and a car chase on the news. We thought it was you!”
“It was. I need you to pick us up ASAP.”
“Josh is already in your area. He took off as soon as we saw the broadcast. Where are you?”
Michael gave him a description of where they were.
“I'll call Josh right now and let him know where you are. Hang tight.”
“Will do.” Michael hung up and headed for the toy store Jessica and Gomez were shopping in.
After a brief search, he found them in one of the aisles. Eddie was sitting in their shopping cart clutching a teddy bear almost as big as himself.
“Josh is coming to get us. He's not far. Should be here in a few minutes. Let's pay for this stuff and be ready to leave.” He looked down at Eddie. “How's he doing?”
“Better,” Gomez replied. “He wants his mom though.”
“Well, let's get going.” Michael led the way to the cash registers.
Eddied barely let go of the teddy bear long enough for the cashier to scan the tag. Josh pulled up in front while they were checking out.
“What happened?” Josh asked once they were all inside.
“I'll explain, just get going. We need to get out of here.” Michael turned around to Gomez. “Where is your wife?”
“Our friends have a cabin by a lake. They gave us a key, we can go any time. I told her to go there and not to tell anyone where she was headed.”
“Okay, good. We'll go get her. Any place that's known to your friends or family isn't going to be safe once they start broadening their search. We'll have to find you another place to stay.”
“Is anyone going to tell me what happened?” Josh interrupted.
“The Russians showed up to take out Alonso while I was there,” Michael answered.
“How do you know they were Russian?” Gomez asked.
“I heard them talking to each other when they entered the house. They thought you killed their friend at the door and couldn't wait to get revenge.”
“Oh, that's just great.”
“Don't worry. I'm sure they realize by now it was me.” He looked back at Gomez and grinned. “Oh, and by the way.” He turned to Josh. “Next time we're involved in a car chase for any reason, Jessica drives.”
Josh gave Michael a funny look. “Yeah, because we usually plan those.”
“I'd prefer not to be in the car for the next one,” Gomez interjected.
“Hey, you're alive, aren't you?” Jessica pointed out.
“Yeah, I'm not sure who I have to thank for that. I was praying to all the gods, just in case,” Gomez teased.
Jessica smirked and rolled her eyes and the guys chuckled.
They arrived back at the motel and after loading the weapons and ammo back into the truck, Martin squeezed in the backseat with Jessica, Gomez, and Eddie. Eddie sat on Gomez's lap but it was still crowded. It would get even more crowded when they picked up Gomez's wife.
Michael grabbed a couple clips of ammo from the back before taking his place in front next to Josh. He loaded a fresh clip into his gun as they drove out of the motel parking lot and slid the other in his side pocket.
“I'd like to make one stop before we leave town,” Michael announced.
“Where to?” Josh asked.
“I want to pay our friend Rick another visit. Someone told the Russians where Alonso lived. I want to see what he has to say about that. You can drop me off.”
“You think he told them?” Martin asked.
“Yeah I do.”
“You do
n't mean Rick Hamilton, do you?” Gomez sounded alarmed.
Michael turned to him. “You know him, I take it?”
“I worked with him.” Gomez was stunned.
“He's the witness I was talking about.”
“He was always so nice to me.” His voice trailed off as he stared out the window in a daze. He wasn't surprised to learn Edward Morgan was dirty, but he was surprised Rick was involved. He wondered who else might be mixed up in this.
Chapter 57
Morgan sat in his office signing forms and looking over reports. He hadn't heard from Milovich in a few days and at first was happy about it, but now it started to worry him. The trail on Michael had grown cold and Milovich should have been breathing down his neck for results.
Suddenly his door burst open and he was confronted by a very excited coworker. “Did you hear?” he asked frantically.
“Hear what?” Morgan was immediately tense.
“Alonso Gomez's house got shot to bits and he ended up in a car chase and shootout. He managed to get away and evade the police. We think he's gone into hiding. A task force was formed to find him and figure out what's going on.”
“When did this happen?” Morgan shot up from his seat.
“A couple hours ago. I just got word of it.”
As he was speaking, Morgan's phone rang.
“Morgan,” he answered. “Yes, I just heard ... I'll be there.” He hung up the phone and turned to the man in his doorway. “There's a meeting in ten minutes, they want me there. I have to get ready.”
The man nodded and disappeared down the hall. Morgan ran his hand over his head. Would Milovich be this stupid?
Rick was on his knees sorting through the papers scattered on the floor when his door flung open. Morgan stared down at the mess in astonishment. “What the hell happened?”
“Uhh. I tripped.” Rick didn't sound too confident. It was obvious he was lying. The place was trashed.
“Someone tried to kill Alonso Gomez.” He waited to see Rick's reaction.
Rick tried to act surprised. “Oh my God. Do they know who? Wait, tried?”
Morgan glared at him. Rick seemed more surprised that they failed than they tried. Morgan stepped in his office and quietly closed the door.
“Did you know about this?” His tone was tempered, but the anger he was restraining was just under the surface.
“No,” Rick replied quickly, shaking his head. His body language betrayed him.
Morgan gritted his teeth. “What have you done?”
Rick hung his head, but didn't reply.
Morgan entered the conference room where the meeting about Gomez was about to begin. A long mahogany conference table surrounded by cushy leather office chairs took up the majority of the room. A laptop was set up at one end of the table with a projector attached and a screen pulled down in front of it. He took a seat as one of his colleagues took the floor. Tall with a well-toned frame and salt and pepper hair, he was wearing a blue striped dress shirt and black pants, but no jacket.
“Alright, I need everyone's attention please. Have a seat. I'm Special Agent Tim Gatti. I'm heading up the task force to bring Alonso Gomez in. This is high priority. I've asked you all here because you knew Gomez. We don't know why someone would want him dead. And while he no longer works here, we can't dismiss what happened. It's possible he may have gotten involved in something he shouldn't have. But we can't ignore the possibility that it's retaliation for his work here. Our main objective is to find him and get him into protective custody.
Here's what we know so far. At approximately 9:45 a.m., a shootout occurred at Gomez's residence. One of the shooters died on his doorstep. Gomez fled in his car with his son and two other people, who we can only assume were with him at the time. They were pursued by the shooters in a van; the chase ended up attracting local police. The occupants of the van were apprehended while Gomez managed to slip through a police roadblock and evade capture.” He glanced around at everyone in the room. “Now.” He pecked a few keys on the laptop. “With that said, this incident has collided with another case we are working.” Instantly, a picture of Michael appeared on the screen in front of everyone.
Morgan fidgeted in his seat. Everyone else listened intently while studying Michael's picture.
“This is Sergeant Major Michael Cailen. He's been AWOL for the past four years. His commanding officers insisted he wasn't the type to shirk his responsibilities and enlisted our help to find out what happened to him.” He pressed another key on the laptop and the picture changed to a police photo of Gomez's beat up-car left under the highway. “This is Gomez's car. It was found abandoned under an overpass after he evaded a police roadblock. Fingerprint analysis show Gomez was in the back seat likely with his two-year-old son next to him in the car seat. We still haven't identified who was driving but police say it was a young caucasian woman with dark hair. Not much to go on. The front passenger however, was Michael Cailen.”
He looked back at the agents sitting at the table. “His prints have turned up at a few other crime scenes recently in the Boston area. We are now taking over those cases. What I need from all of you is any insight you might have on what is going on and where Gomez could be. We'd like to find him alive so the answers don't die with him. The clock is ticking.”
“Has anyone tried reaching his wife?” a woman sitting in the back asked, grabbing everyone's attention.
“She left work abruptly and didn't tell anyone where she was going.”
“Could she be involved?” a man on the other side of the table asked.
“We don't believe so. Her coworkers report that she seemed fine up until mid-morning when she received a phone call from Gomez, after which she appeared upset and left abruptly without saying anything. Also, the fact that her son was home when it happened makes it seem unlikely she would have put him in jeopardy like that.” He paused and looked around the room. “Any more questions?” There were none.
“To wrap up, we need to find Alonso Gomez. If you know anything that might help accomplish that, it is your duty to come forward. Thank you. You all may go.”
Wanting to press Rick for information, Morgan was in a hurry to leave. He resisted the urge to start shoving people out of his way as they slowly filed out.
“Morgan,” Gatti called out to him.
Morgan reluctantly turned around. “Yes?”
“Can I have a word with you?”
He didn't know what Gatti wanted to speak to him about, but he was sure he didn't want to talk about it. “What is it?”
“You had Gomez fired. You want to elaborate on that?”
Morgan looked confused. “Everything is in his file. Haven't you read it?”
“I read what's in his file. I want to know what was left out.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Did he act strange or suspicious? Did you have concerns about his integrity? Anything like that?”
Morgan pursed his lips and shook his head.
“Off the record,” Gatti offered.
Morgan sighed. “Gomez was a stubborn son of a gun who didn't know when to quit. Aside from that, I don't really know if he was involved in anything shady. I certainly would've reported it if I had thought that.”
Gatti looked down at the floor and nodded. “He filed a lawsuit claiming wrongful termination.” He looked back up at Morgan. “Any grounds to that?”
Morgan became defensive at his question and tone of voice. “He repeatedly disobeyed direct orders in spite of written warnings. I'm pretty sure the record speaks for itself,” Morgan replied indignantly then turned to leave. Gatti watched as he left the room, intrigued by the nerve he had apparently struck in him.
Morgan rushed back to Rick's office only to find it empty. He cursed to himself. He decided perhaps it was time to call Milovich.
He made his way to the park where he used to meet Evan. He pulled a cell phone from his glove box, pressed the power button and waited for it to start up. He
dialed the only number that the phone had ever called. Milovich's bodyguard answered.
“I need to speak with him.”
“He's busy.”
“It's urgent. I need to speak with him now.” His fingers nervously tapped the steering wheel.
Several seconds passed before he heard Milovich on the other end. “What is it?”
“I thought I made it clear that Gomez was not to be touched!” Morgan tried to restrain his anger, but he wasn't very successful.
“I take orders from no one!” Milovich angrily shot back. “Who do you think you are, presuming to tell me what to do?!”
“You have no idea what you've just done.” A smug smile crossed Morgan's lips as he shook his head. “The agency is on the war path now. Your men, the ones apprehended by the police. You'll never see or hear from them again. Doubt there will even be any record of their arrest. You stuck your hand in the hornet's nest. I hope you're prepared to get stung.” A strange calm came over him. It would all be over soon, he thought to himself. Part of him welcomed the end.
Fuming, Milovich didn't say a word. He knew Morgan was right. He made a foolish decision to take out Gomez, especially in such a brazen way. But he would never admit that to anyone. He pulled the phone from his ear and looked down at it as he terminated the call.
Chapter 58
After dropping Michael off at Rick's, Josh and his carpool worked their way out of the city. Everyone had a lot on their mind. Jessica couldn't stop thinking about Michael. She kept hearing that Russian phrase in her head.
“Josh, do you speak any other languages?” she asked.
“A few. Why?”
She repeated the Russian phrase to him. She didn't even have to ask if he knew what it meant because he broke into a huge grin when she said it. She could also see a smirk cross Martin's face.
“What does it mean?” The curiosity was killing her, especially after seeing the guys reaction to it.
“Where did you hear that?” Josh asked, still grinning wildly.
She didn't want to say, not knowing what it meant. “Just tell me, what does it mean?”
“Let me guess. He's about six foot three, likes guns and only wears cargo pants?”