Stuff to die for lam-1

by Don Bruns

  “I was born with more courage than you’ll have in a lifetime!” There was venom in Victor’s voice.

  “Then show some. Here is my pistol. Shoot them both, and we’ll throw their bodies in the water. Casualties of war, Victor. Here, take it.”

  It was time to open my eyes. I wanted to have some say in the matter.

  “Vic.”

  He looked down at me. The same good looks, dark skin and eyes, and big hands, one of them wrapped around a pistol. There seemed to be five healthy fingers on each one. “Hey, Skip.”

  Carlos stood in the doorway, smirking. A third man watched with wide eyes and an unhealthy grin plastered on his face. He seemed to be eagerly awaiting my demise.

  “Vic, I’m really glad to see you have all your fingers.” Vic’s fingers. One of the main reasons I was in this predicament.

  He gave me a vague smile. “Yeah. That was never for your benefit.”

  “Jackie?”

  “Jackie. She was supposed to open the envelope, realize my father was being blackmailed, and stay out of the way for a while.”

  “But she never opened the envelope. I did.”

  “I’m truly sorry you got involved. Ironic isn’t it?”

  I ignored the comment. “But, whose finger was it?”

  He glanced at Carlos, who was leaning against the door frame, amused at the story Vic was telling.

  “There was a Cuban grocer and his significant other who stumbled onto our little plan. We took them to the Cuban Social Club and-”

  “We talked to them.” Carlos laughed. “And then we cut off the finger of one of the men when they refused to tell us what we wanted to know. He squealed like a baby.”

  The third man spoke. “But they told us everything. They were reporting back to Cuba about our plans for invasion. It’s very simple really. You just remove body parts to get a full confession.”

  I was trying to put it all together. “You decided to send the finger-”

  “And Victor’s class ring.”

  “The finger and the ring to Jackie?”

  Vic nodded. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  James was wheezing, his chest almost jerking with every breath he took.

  “Vic, James doesn’t sound good. He could use a doctor.”

  I saw the indecision in his eyes. He glanced at Carlos, then to James, and back to me, and sighed.

  “Saving someone’s life once in a lifetime should be enough. It should be more than enough.”

  I didn’t mention that he’d saved my life again by stopping the guard from strangling me.

  Vic pointed the pistol at James, held the pose for a moment, then swung the barrel so it was aimed directly at my head. He cocked the hammer and a chill went down my back and I shivered in the stifling heat of the office.

  Then he turned and handed the pistol back to Carlos. “I am responsible for this man’s life. While I may not save it again, I cannot take it. It has nothing to do with courage, but everything to do with the laws of life.”

  Carlos stared at the pistol in his hand, then shrugged, released the hammer and stuck the handgun in his belt. I breathed a sigh of relief and said a silent prayer. I’m not a religious person, but sometimes you just feel that someone upstairs is watching out for you.

  Carlos put a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “You think what you did was admirable. You would like to think everything you do is noble and well thought out. You are no better than the rest of us. You do this not just for Los Historicos. You do it for your own greed.”

  Vic shoved his hand away and glowered at him. “I do this for the people of Cuba who beg for freedom.”

  “And people will die. Innocent people will suffer. It’s like your explosives expert who made one small mistake on the bomb that was meant for Castro. It brought down the Cuban Social Club-killed the two spies and your bomb maker. You have already been responsible for lives, Victor, and the war has yet to begin.” Carlos spun around and walked out into the warehouse.

  The third man, I guessed his name to be Israel, just stood there, giggling. Vic looked down at me, a scowl on his face. “Maybe there’s a lesson here. The life you save may come back to haunt you. Don’t haunt me, Skip. The greater good is that I am successful in this mission. Don’t stand in my way.”

  I remembered the last person who had asked me to get the hell out of the way. Ricardo Fuentes, Vic’s father. Only he was asking me to step aside so his son could live. I wondered what Rick Fuentes would think now.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  “Truck’s here,” someone shouted from out in the main room. Truthfully, I’d had about enough of trucks. I could hear the overhead door rattle as it raised up, and the sound of a diesel engine as the truck pulled inside. The door closed and the choking smell of diesel exhaust filled the area.

  James coughed.

  I tried stretching my arms to see if there was any play with the rope. There was no feeling at all in my hands. I stretched again and thought maybe there was a slight easing of the tightness. Not enough to make a difference.

  “Skip.”

  I jumped.

  “Skip?” James’ eyes were almost closed, droopy at best.

  “James. Man, I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Man, what’s happening?” His head still hung low, his chin resting on his chest.

  “You took a pretty good beating.”

  “You think I don’t know?”

  “James, I tried to get out. Took two of them out with my pitching arm and a couple of oil cans, but they stopped me.”

  He was quiet for a moment, still drawing short, raspy breaths. “You’re gonna have to pay for that oil, pard.”

  “Vic is here. Alive.”

  “No shit. They’ve got him too?”

  “No. He’s got us. He’s one of them, Vic and all of his ten fingers.” I filled him in on the rest of the story. Half way through my CliffsNotes version his eyes closed and I thought I’d lost him. “James?”

  “Yeah. I’m listening. Trying to block out the pain.”

  When I finished, he lifted his head, looking at me with one eye open. “They were going to kill us?”

  “Oh, I think they intend to kill us even now. But they’re loading the truck at the moment, and we’re not high priority.”

  We could hear the sound of the forklift sliding under the boxes, then loading them into the truck.

  “So if everyone is busy with the truck, now would be a good time to escape.” James even managed a weak smile.

  “I agree. Let’s get out while we can.”

  No plans, no chance of any escape.

  “I think they may have cracked some ribs. My right side aches and when I breath it feels like something’s sticking me.”

  “Man, I wish there was something I could have done.”

  “You tried, amigo.”

  I hadn’t heard them approach, but someone was turning the door handle. They shoved open the door and stepped inside and I got a glimpse of a shoe before I raised my head to see the rest. Heavy wax coating on a black shoe. I looked up. Buzz cut and open-collar shirt. Krueger from the CIA.

  “Jesus, am I glad to see you.”

  He smiled. “Told you boys to mind your own business. Remember I said it might come to this?”

  I smiled back. “I should have listened. Mr. Krueger, I can’t tell you how glad I am. I believe James and I are on a list to be shot in the not too distant future.”

  He laughed out loud. “Yes, I believe you are.” Someone walked in behind him wearing a shoulder holster with a wooden handled revolver inside. “Mr. Moore, Mr. Lessor, let me introduce you to Mark Spense. Mark’s with the Agency as well.”

  “Thank God. Listen. James is in pretty bad shape. They beat him up and he thinks he may have some internal injuries. Can we get these ropes off and get some medical attention?”

  Krueger laughed again. A jovial guy. “Mr. Moore, I’m afraid you’re mistaken about my reason for being here. Actually, ther
e are several reasons, but right now my primary business is to attend to your death. And you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  I wondered if my old man would ever find out that I’d been killed. Collateral damage. My mom and sister would be busted up, but my dad? He might shrug his shoulders, but you can’t miss something you don’t claim as yours. And James’s dad? Now, like his father, James was never going to amount to much in the world of business, and he certainly wasn’t going to be driving that new Cadillac.

  “Mark, get ’em on their feet, and bring in their friend.”

  My heart jumped into my mouth. Jesus, they couldn’t have Em. Oh, Jesus Christ, please, not Em.

  Jackie Fuentes walked into the sweltering office, a quirky smile on her face. “Hi, boys.”

  James raised his head gingerly. I watched Jackie flinch when she saw the damage done to his face. James wasn’t so cute anymore.

  “So you’re in on this too?”

  “Not so you’d notice.” Mark Spense followed, the gun out of his holster and pointed at Jackie’s back. He pulled me up with his free hand, then eyed James. There was no way James could stand on his own. “You two,” he motioned to Jackie and me, “pick him up. We’re taking a little stroll across the street to the water.” Agent Spense untied my hands and I worked the circulation back into them. Then he untied James’s hands.

  For the first time I saw panic register on Jackie’s pretty face. “They’re really going to kill us, aren’t they?”

  “We are, little lady. We are.”

  I gently took James under one arm and Jackie lifted the other.

  “I don’t care if you have to drag him, we’re going outside.”

  I stared hard at Krueger. “Before we go, tell me one thing.”

  “Oh, Jesus. This is just like the fucking movies. ‘Please, tell me how all this happened before you kill me.’”

  “This isn’t the movies. It’s my last request. I just want to know. Is Victor in charge of this little band of malcontents?”

  “No. Now shut the fuck up and move.”

  “One more question?”

  “Move.”

  “Are you and your partner really with the CIA?”

  Krueger had pulled out his gun and was waving it at me.

  “Yes? No?”

  “Yes. Get moving.”

  James grunted as we helped him stand, but he was able to put one foot in front of the other.

  We entered the main area and I could see the large box truck being loaded with the crates of guns and ammunition. The yellow forklift was working off one of the pallets about half way down the wall. Carlos was driving the lift and Vic and Israel were inside the truck helping load the boxes. Juan, his arm in a cast, stood off to the side. All things considered, I figured he would rather be helping. A handful of workers were busy with other projects, two of them carrying the metal canisters that I’d hid behind the other night.

  We were herded to the side door and into the parking lot.

  “Chains and blocks are across the street. May as well put them on over there.” Mark Spense nodded to Krueger.

  “Keep moving.”

  “James, if it comes down to it, know that I loved you like a brother. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

  James grunted. We were pretty much dragging him now. He couldn’t move on his own.

  “Skip, James, I’m sorry about all of this. I never meant to get anyone else involved. Really.” Jackie’s voice quivered.

  Krueger pushed the barrel of his gun into my back. We crossed the street and stood by a crumbling three-foot high cement barrier that ran along the water as far as I could see in the murky shadows.

  “Sit him down.” Krueger motioned to James, and I eased him down against the wall.

  Jackie stood stock still, looking like a frozen Barbie doll in tight jeans and a simple white T-shirt.

  “Put that chain around his ankle.”

  I glanced down and saw a chain wrapped through and around a cement block. They were going to toss us into the water and either let us drown or shoot us first. There wasn’t a damned thing I could do to stop it.

  “Wrap the chain around his ankle.” Krueger raised his voice. “Mark, do it for her. We’ve got to get this show on the road.”

  Mark Spense put his pistol in the shoulder holster, bent down to take the loose end of the chain, and fell flat on his face.

  “What the fuck?” Krueger took a step closer, leaned down, and gasped. “Christ, he’s been shot.”

  He grabbed Jackie by the shoulder, pulling her in front of him. He gave James and me a hard look, then furtively glanced in all directions.

  “Please, don’t hold me so tight, it really hurts.” Jackie was squirming, trying to loosen Krueger’s grip.

  “You should be dead by now, so this really isn’t so bad, is it?” His arm reached around her chest, mashing her breasts with a death grip. “Whoever is out there, I’ll shoot this little girl. Swear to God.”

  Silence. I could hear the water lapping at the cement wall and across the street I could hear the commotion as the workers loaded the truck behind the overhead door.

  “Show yourself or I’ll shoot her, so help me.”

  No response. James and I huddled by the seawall. I could smell the rotting seaweed and oil that floated on the surface of the flat black river water. His eyes were closed, but I had the feeling he was not missing any of this.

  “One more chance, and I’m going to put a bullet in her head.” Krueger yelled. His voice echoed off the steel building across the street.

  I closed my eyes. I had to do something. Jump up, shout, throw myself at him. I flexed my legs, ready to leap.

  “Time’s up.”

  Krueger’s head swiveled back and forth, trying to find out where the shooter might be. He put his gun to Jackie’s head and I heard the sound. As if someone spit, loudly. The shooter’s bullet hit the cement seawall inches from where I sat, and particles of concrete showered the area. Again, the spitting noise and this time the bullet hit gravel in front of Jackie Fuentes.

  “Please, please let me go.”

  Krueger took aim somewhere in the darkness and fired. The loud explosion surprised me. He pointed in the same general direction, firing again, and holding Jackie tight to his chest.

  “Move!” He shoved Jackie in front of him and moved double time across the street toward the warehouse. I watched him as he reached the building, pushing her inside.

  “James?”

  There was no answer. I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and dialed 911.

  “911 operator. Do you have an emergency?”

  “Man, do I only. There’s a guy trying to kill me and two of my friends. And they’re loading guns and ammunition to take to Key West, and sail over to Cuba for an invasion.”

  “Sir, this is an emergency number. It’s against the law to use it for anything else.”

  “Lady, this is a fucking emergency. I know you record these calls. Give this to someone. I’m in a warehouse district off North River Road, down by Garcias. You tell somebody things are going to get pretty hairy in a matter of minutes.” I closed the flip phone.

  “They’re already pretty hairy, Skip. I just killed a government agent.” Angel stepped out of a shadow and kneeled down next to James. “You’re going to be all right, James. This whole thing is about over.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  We carried James to the Jeep parked in a small grove of pine trees a block from the warehouse. Krueger was protecting his own ass and it was time to protect ours. James was breathing steadier as we stretched him on the backseat.

  “We need to get Jackie Fuentes out of there.”

  “We need to get James to a hospital.”

  We looked at each other, then back at James, breathing regularly.

  “Okay, all right. But if 911 gets busy, they’ll have someone here soon. We should just stay out of it.”

  “Skip, James
will be all right. He was awake and making sense. I doubt if there is a concussion and he’s breathing well right now.”

  “How the hell do you know all this stuff?”

  He motioned to me and we left the Jeep.

  “What do you plan to do? My God, these people have hundreds of guns, ammunition, the CIA-”

  “I was wrong.” Angel stayed close to the buildings we passed and I stayed right behind him.

  “Wrong? About what?” The moon stayed behind clouds and we were probably hard to spot.

  “Your CIA friend. I believe he was from the CIA.”

  “So the CIA is involved in this invasion?”

  We approached the warehouse. There were no guards outside the side door.

  “I don’t know. Maybe three rogue agents, maybe the entire agency.”

  “Three? There was a third?”

  He motioned to me and we headed toward the back of the corrugated steel building. We walked past the outside forklift and the Buick was still parked. He walked me behind the building and put his finger to his lips. Whispering, he pointed to an outside metal fire escape. “There’s a door up there. I believe it opens onto a balcony that surveys the entire warehouse.”

  I whispered back. “How the hell do you know?”

  “I was up there earlier this evening.”

  I shook my head. The guy was a regular James Bond.

  He motioned to me and we quietly climbed the steps.

  You’d think that international terrorists would lock their doors. But they don’t. These guys didn’t. The door opened easily and Angel stuck his head inside.

  “They’re busy down there. Come here.”

  He eased in, kneeling, and watching under the railing that ran along the four-foot wide balcony. I followed.

  The truck was about loaded. There were four more pallets of boxes and one more canister left to lift onto the truck.

  “Down there.” Angel pointed.

  Jackie was standing against the wall, midway down the floor. Someone I didn’t recognize held a gun on her, and Krueger was nowhere in sight.

  “You can see everything from up here, can’t you? The entire operation.” The voice behind me surprised the crap out of me. I’d been shocked so many times tonight this shouldn’t have fazed me, but it did.