On The Black: (A CIA Thriller)

by Theo Cage

  “Where is he now?”

  “Not so fast. What do you know about the girl?”

  Trent had a brand new National’s baseball cap pushed down low on his forehead, sunglasses and a beard. Sumner had seen the same strategy used in Texas Hold'em tournaments. Hard to read a tell when not even a square inch of face is available to scrutiny. Sumner couldn't tell if Trent even knew what he was talking about. They stared at each other for a long time. Then Trent took off his baseball cap and rubbed the perspiration off his forehead. Sumner took a sip of coffee from a paper cup proudly displaying a Shell logo on the side. Trent squinted at the cup, then the agent.

  “Sumner, Donald. Do they call you Don? Six years with the FBI. Stationed in Bumfuck, North Dakota. Not a stellar record so far. And bad taste in coffee. But you were there at the Satan's Raider Lollapalooza, right?”

  “Wouldn't have missed it.”

  “I remember there was a female with Rice. Sitting next to him in the truck. That's who you're after? The blond?”

  “Escaped witness protection.”

  “Since when is that against the law?’

  “I’m just trying to keep her alive.”

  Trent nodded, putting the baseball cap back on his head and then adjusting it like a pitcher on the mound.

  “You say you have Rice. Why isn't she with him?”

  “They arranged to split up after the landing.”

  Trent stood up. “You don't really know anything, do you?”

  “I know more than you. I know the make and manufacturer of the helicopter. I know where it landed. And I have Rice, but I don't really care because the only thing that really matters to me is the girl. I'd be happy to do a trade.”

  Trent reluctantly sat back down. “You better have Rice locked down. You obviously don’t know that everyone on the planet with a grudge is after the guy. And two, he's some kind of escape expert.”

  “Daily rotation. Two motel rooms. Four agents 24/7.”

  “That might work for a few days.”

  “He'll be in the brig in Quantico by the end of the week. Then you'll never see him again.”

  “I can't promise you anything. You know we’re not private investigators. Have you got any details on this girl that will help us?”

  “Aliases. Prior address. That's it.”

  “You hoping we just get lucky? That's not much to go on. And you have access to more data than anyone.”

  “There's only so much we can do – legally,” said Sumner.

  “If that's the case, give us Rice, and we'll massage the details out of him. The same way. That’s what we do best.”

  Sumner believed him. Somebody had to do the dirty work. “You give me the girl - I give you Rice.”

  “Fuck you. And for the record, I think Rice is gone and you’re just fishing. Which means you’re wasting my time and I don’t have any to waste.”

  “Well? What are you sitting here for?” asked Sumner, looking pleased with himself.

  Trent got up. He looked like he wanted to punch Sumner’s lights out. Luckily, they were on the most watched intersection in the city. “If you’re bullshitting me, you’ll regret it.”

  Sumner took another sip of his coffee. He shrugged like he didn’t give a shit.

  “Send me what you have,” said Trent.

  Sumner pulled a tiny flash drive out of his pocket and handed it to Trent.

  “It’s all there. Everything we know.” Trent took the device, nodded and walked away.

  “We’ll be in touch.”

  Sumner smiled. Yep. Everything we know. And a tracking device. And as soon as Razer plugs it into his computer, all the data on his hard drive as well.

  CHAPTER 61

  Scottsdale, Arizona

  ENZO’S INSTRUCTIONS TO WOLF, his driver, and Snake, his nephew, were emphatic. “Get the four toughest soldiers you can find and have them meet this Sergio at the mall. And do it now. Now!”

  Enzo had no interest in trusting some two-bit mall-based loan shark with someone he wanted so badly. And it wasn't that this girl, this spoilt daughter of some Swedish-born petty accountant, was so important to him. He had convinced himself she was just a loose end; the last remaining member of a family who had fucked over his organization with the thoroughness of a neutron bomb and sent a dozen of his most trusted capos to long-term jail sentences. Separately. To prisons all over the Midwest.

  Just thinking about her made Enzo's eyes bleed. He needed badly to see her, to talk to her - to make her believe in his rage and to beg for forgiveness. He wasn't sure what he would do to her yet - but he had many glorious options. He had dreamed about this moment so many times. The end of the Blum family. Dead and buried. And he would shove this up the ass of the FBI in every way possible once she was gone. Maybe he would mail The Director a body part. This is what I think of your Witness Protection Plan! He smiled for the first time in days just thinking about his revenge on the Feds.

  . . . . .

  WALKING BACK TO HIS SUV in Edgewood, Sumner took a call on his cell. The display was a mass of numbers, but he knew it was the Research Center in Quantico.

  “Sumner? You working a case out of Arizona?”

  “That’s a long story. My suspect is on the run. I'm working the Midwest right now.”

  “Your case work file says you've been looking for an Addie Blum. With Witness Security.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, we're working on an organized crime stakeout in Fountain Hills. The Ruffino family. We’re monitoring a dozen wiretaps. We were privy to an interesting conversation by Enzo Ruffino, the family head.”

  “I know of him.”

  “He's got a reward out for her capture.”

  “I've heard that. What's it up to?”

  “Five hundred thousand.”

  “It was one hundred three months ago.”

  “Well, someone's going to be getting a very generous paycheck then because it looks like they've spotted her. The chatter has been about a picture some goon took in a Chicago fashion mall. No confirmation yet that they've picked her up, but it sounds like it was a confirmed sighting.”

  “Do you have the picture?”

  “No. That will take a few days of processing. Right now we have a conversation on file. Does that help?”

  “What's the mall?” The agent gave Sumner the name and location.

  “Be careful, Sumner. This is a very violent crew. If they’re looking for this girl and they find her, there could be a lot of collateral damage. And according to your file, you're not the luckiest agent in the shop.”

  CHAPTER 62

  Chicago

  RICE FORCED SERGIO into the driver’s seat at gunpoint and climbed into the back seat. He held the thug's gun to the base of his stubby neck.

  “Start the car and crank the air up to full. You make one tiny misstep, like trying to run, and I will empty this clip into your back. I have marksman training from the military but I won’t need it. You’re an easy target.” Sergio said nothing. Rice could see his hooded eyes in the rear view mirror.

  “Now, I need you to call your soldier. You want an update. Same rules. If you screw me around, I will empty this clip into you so fast you won't have time for even one last Hail Mary. You got that?” Sergio nodded, begrudgingly.

  “Now call!”

  Sergio pulled his phone out of his suit jacket pocket and hit a one-dial code.

  “Nello, what’s up?” Sergio stiffened like he didn't like the answer he got.

  “How long ago?” Sergio hit the top of the steering wheel with his fist and swore. Rice held back a smirk. This made guy should be staying cool considering he had a gun at his head, but obviously his plans had come apart on him.

  “Where?” yelled Sergio. Then he swore again. “You fuck this up and I will kill you with my bare hands.”

  Sergio looked in the rearview mirror at Rice. “What's this girl to you? Family?”

  “Yeah. Family! And like you, nothing else matters. Nothing.
” And for emphasis, Rice pushed the barrel of the gun harder into Sergio’s baby fat.

  “You give me my money back - I let her go. How's that?” said the thug.

  “What happened to the fat reward?”

  Sergio shrugged. “She's family. I get it. Family's important. But I need my cash back. Otherwise it won't matter.”

  Rice took a deep breath. He was guessing that Sergio's goons lost Addie and that's why he was being so generous. To test that theory he asked a question.

  “They going to bring her here?”

  “No fucking way, we make a deal, they just release her.”

  “How will I know she's free then? You take me for a scimunito?” Translated idiot.

  “Call her, man. Ask her if she's being held by anyone.”

  Rice pulled his smart phone out of the pocket of his windbreaker - a basic pay-as-you-go mobile they picked up at a kiosk in the mall. The first thing Addie had done was to put her number in his speed dial. There was something implicit in that action. We are not going to get separated again, she said.

  Just as Rice was about to dial, an Avalanche pulled up behind Sharkskin's caddy, and all four doors opened at once. Four men got out, all in suits and shirts without ties, expensive handmade shoes. The capo strode up to Sergio's door and peered in through the tinted glass. He tapped the side window with one knuckle, a serious look on his face.

  CHAPTER 63

  Chicago

  SERGIO HAD TWO HANDS ON THE WHEEL of his precious Cadillac, ten and two o'clock, just like they used to teach you in the old days, before air bags. He could feel the annoying pressure on his spine from the gun being pressed into the base of his skull.

  Sergio was fantasizing about slamming his foot down on the gas, four hundred plus horses roaring into action, the car leaping up over the curb and the grass boulevard - while jerk-off in the back gets thrown sideways, hopefully losing the gun on the floor or putting a wild shot through the sunroof.

  Then Sergio saw himself smoothly fingering the door latch and rolling out of the driver’s door onto the grass, while the scruffy guy in the rear seat struggled to find his gun, his whole universe a blur of black leather. And Sergio would be off and away.

  But he didn't. Because he didn't want to damage the car. His precious CTS4. At some level he recognized that was a bad excuse for letting some middle-aged stranger blow his brains out. But he couldn't help it. And being lost in his fruitless fantasy, he missed the Avalanche pull up behind them, and the four soldiers pile out like some synchronized military ballet.

  When the captain of the crew knocked on his window, Sergio jumped like someone probed him with a cattle prod. He recognized the leader immediately, although he couldn’t remember his name. A guy with a local rep for toughness, someone who it was rumored had done extensive killing for the organization. When a guy like that rattles your window, you can’t help but feel things inside loosen up a bit.

  Like nothing will ever be tight and leak-proof again.

  Sergio swallowed. He still had that cold steel kiss on his neck reminding him that his priorities had shifted.

  At that point, the man in the back seat exploded. A muscled arm pulled Sergio's neck back and the gearshift was shoved into drive. Sergio felt the gun being pressed into his left eye with enough force to fill his field of vision with angry points of light.

  “Floor it. Or say goodbye.”

  Sergio tried to swallow, tried to speak, tried to cry out in anguish. But he could do neither, so he mashed his foot down hard on the gas pedal, sensed his car rise up like a horse ready to leap a fence, and felt the engine scream. Then they were launched, as if into space, gunfire exploding everywhere around them.

  CHAPTER 64

  Chicago

  SERGIO’S CAR SHOT UP OVER THE CURB, across the grassed boulevard, and sliced into the traffic pouring into the mall's parking lot. A SUV full of adults had to veer over into the oncoming lane and slammed into a red convertible. Sergio saw the airbag deploy and the driver looking dazed, stunned by the impact. Horns were screaming at him, but he had no time to think or respond. The CTS had skidded across the grass and by the time they reached the stop sign at the end of the block, they were already doing almost sixty miles an hour. The truck in front of them had come to a stop, but Rice jammed his gun harder into Sergio's jaw when he let up on the gas for a second.

  “Go around,” growled Rice, his arm still wrapped around the mobsters neck. “We're both dead now and you know it.”

  Sergio didn't argue. He slid the Caddy over to the left, aiming for the gap between the truck in front of him and approaching traffic. A woman with her cell phone tucked up under her chin didn't react in time and lost her side mirror in the bargain. As well as a few layers of paint. Sergio swore, imagining the damage to his precious baby.

  “Because of you, now they think I'm running,” grunted Sergio.

  “Exactly. You slow down and you're dead.”

  “I'm dead anyway. You might as well clip me.” Sergio took his foot off the gas. “You're trying to protect some broad who's already given my guy the slip. When these guys find you, we'll both be fucked.”

  Rice could see the Avalanche in the read mirror, a few car lengths behind them. He had seen four men get out. Too many to run from. Even in a crowded mall. The CTS was slowing down, Sergio no longer interested in taking on the whole mob.

  “You still want the girl?” asked Rice.

  “You shitting me? Having that girl right now is the only thing that saves my life.”

  “We split it. Fifty-fifty.”

  Sergio looked in the mirror. Rice saw suspicion in his eyes, but also hope.

  “Sixty-forty for me. And you give me the gun. I wrestled it out of your hands. Got that?” said Sergio.

  Rice dropped the gun on the front passenger seat. Sergio swung the CTS over into an area of the parking lot where there were a lot of open spots. The Avalanche pulled in front, blocking their path, but no one got out. Sergio waved the gun at Rice.

  “Where is she?” Sergio asked.

  Rice smirked. “I’ll tell you when the time is right. “

  “Get out. Raise your hands.”

  Rice opened the rear door of the sedan and got out slowly, his hands above his head. Sergio jumped out and jammed the gun barrel into Rice's lower back, a lot harder than necessary.

  “How's that feel, asshole? I'll have a bruise for a month, thanks to you.”

  “It could have been worse,” said Rice.

  “You don’t know worse until you meet these guys.”

  Sergio led him around the open driver door, up to the rear of the black Avalanche. Rice still couldn't see any movement in the truck. The windows were heavily tinted. The driver finally got out, taking his time, and walked up to them. An angular guy with a fifties haircut. He wasn’t carrying.

  “Sergio! What the hell happened back there?”

  “This douche bag had a gun to my head and his arm around my neck. But I got it away from him.”

  “You might make a good capo yet.” The other three were now out of the vehicle and surrounding them. Sergio frowned. “Look, I know why you're here. Your boss is afraid I would fuck this whole thing up with the witness.”

  “We’re just here to help you out. Chill-lax, Sergio. Enzo wants to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

  “Yeah, well, I've got it under control. We have the girl. So I don't need any help.”

  “I'm happy for you, Sergio. You done good. We're just the pickup crew. Just tell us where she is and we'll deliver the package.”

  “It's not going to work that way,” said Sergio, puffing himself up as much as possible. Rice could see no concern or fear in the other man's eyes. His guess was Sergio was just as expendable as Addie. And maybe Sergio already knew that.

  “I need to talk to Enzo… Mr. Ruffino.”

  The lead enforcer looked back at one of the other members of the team as if to say see what I have to put up with and raised his hand. The other man
threw him his phone.

  “Are you sure you want this, Sergio? To talk to the boss?”

  “You think I'll turn to salt?” said Sergio.

  “How about turn to shit. He's a busy man. He hates interruptions.”

  “I'll risk it.”

  The team leader shook his head, dropped his gaze to the cell phone and dialed a number.

  “Mr. Ruffino. We got this Sergio guy. And some other asshole who is connected with this girl you’re looking for.” He closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. Sergio wants to talk to you directly.” He nodded two more times and passed the phone to Sergio, like he was handing off a live grenade. Sergio took the phone.

  “Mr. Ruffino!” Sergio gave Rice a sideways look, who was standing quite still, his back straight, his eyes fixed on the other men. “Yeah. She's safe and locked up.” Rice could hear the lie in Sergio's voice. To deceive this mob boss, shamelessly, was the same as signing a death warrant. But what choice did the gangster have? Rice looked at the four soldiers. It was decision time.

  The leader was tall and long-limbed, standing to Rice’s left. Behind him was man number two, average height, his hands balled up into fists, about forty. On the right was a younger hood, probably in his mid-twenties and beside him, his clone, looking bored. Like he had better things to do.

  Rice knew the last thing Sergio would do was shoot him. Without the girl, he was dead, and Rice was his only link. The leader had the most to lose if Rice got away, so he was the biggest threat. But he didn't have a gun drawn, probably worried that flashing firepower in a public parking lot would draw the wrong kind of attention. There was no question in Rice’s mind though that every one of these men would draw their firearms at the first sign of provocation.

  Rice tensed his spine and pushed back slightly against the gun, which gave just a bit. As he guessed, the mobster was distracted by the phone call. Rice twisted sharply to his left and grabbed the gun from Sharkskin, who grunted in surprise. Then Rice grabbed the mobster’s right arm, twisted it up, and pushed him around so that he now served as a perfect shield. As he guessed, when he looked up, the driver of the Avalanche already had his gun partway out of his shoulder harness. The older guy had moved behind the hood of the truck. The two youngsters on his right were a few seconds behind, but they both had their hands inside their jackets.