Dying For LA

by Ian Jones

  ‘Right. Now we do it right. Let’s go, we eat breakfast and then we go to work.’

  ***

  John woke up, wondering where he was. Then he remembered and turned over quickly.

  Sammy was asleep next to him.

  This was not supposed to happen.

  He’d had a few beers last night, normally he wasn’t much of a drinker. But that was no excuse, he knew what he was doing and he liked her. He thought hard about what had been said and was confident he hadn’t told her anything that he shouldn’t.

  But this was still dangerous. They didn’t fully understand what they were up against yet and they had no idea who or how many were out there looking for them. Bringing Sammy into it should never have happened. Innocent people had been hurt before down to him.

  It was nearly half-past seven. He climbed out of bed and took a shower then got dressed.

  ‘Morning,’ Sammy said sleepily looking at him with one eye open.

  She was gorgeous. No other word for it.

  ‘Morning,’ he replied.

  ‘I need to get my stuff, it’s in my car,’ she said.

  ‘Ok.’

  She pulled on her clothes quickly and together they walked down to where her car was parked and collected her bag, then returned to the hotel where she showered and got herself ready for the day.

  John walked over and tapped on Reed’s door. The big man was already up and dressed, ready for action. John glanced around the room.

  ‘No Cindy?’ he asked.

  ‘She went about ten minutes ago. Got to get changed for work. Listen John, I made the call, Keane had a difficult night, which we both kinda suspected I guess. He wants to see us. Major Turner refused to speak to him, and he made sure nobody else has either.’

  John nodded.

  ‘Ok, good, see you downstairs in five.’

  The three of them sat at a table near the window for breakfast. All very friendly but Reed was agitated, keen to get moving and desperately trying to talk about anything other than what they were doing. John could see that Sammy was wise to that and asked her what she was going to do.

  ‘Look, it’s ok. Seriously. I’m just gonna write that I met you, and you’re just a guy. No names. I’m not even gonna try and explain how the hell you managed to blow those guys away.’

  John considered. He liked Sammy and could appreciate the difficult position she was in. He decided to at least try and help.

  ‘Ok. Look, this is all I’m going to say. And this is it. Nothing else. Yeah, I was there. I managed to turn one of their guns on them. I’m no hero, I just did what I could. I’d never seen them before, and I couldn’t understand what they were saying. The police got there really quick. Tom is not involved at all. And please keep my name out of it. Please. But you can print that right?’

  Sammy smiled.

  ‘It’s not printed, but thank you. Yes, I can say that. And yeah ok, I don’t have to mention your name, although of course I want to.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘But look, what can you tell me about yourself?’

  John looked steadily at her. She had spoken openly about her life but as usual he had given away very little. This was nothing new, it was how he always was. He ate some food, drunk some coffee and thought about it.

  ‘Ok. I was in the army. But a long time ago. I don’t need to say anything else.’

  Sammy pouted.

  ‘Can I at least take your picture?’

  John sighed.

  ‘Fine. But not here. Somewhere anonymous ok?’

  ‘Ok.’

  They finished up, then collected their stuff and checked out, Cindy appeared and didn’t want to let Reed go but after some carefully selected words they managed to leave eventually. Sammy took hold of John’s hand as they walked down the street. They got to her car and John allowed her to take a picture on her mobile phone, the background was just the side of a red brick building. Then they said goodbye, Sammy pushing another card with several phone numbers on it into John’s hand.

  They watched her drive off, then Reed set off back down the street moving fast.

  ‘Let’s go talk to Keane.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  General Morgan was sitting very still in his office in the Pentagon.

  He was supposed to be preparing documentation for a forthcoming budget meeting regarding a large-scale training exercise that was planned for later in the year but he had not even started it. He was permanently distracted and worried, and it was getting worse.

  He knew things had gone wrong, but he wasn’t able to fathom how badly.

  There had been a text message late the previous night. Very simple, but very clear.

  He had to make a call. Another number he had never seen before.

  Which he really didn’t want to, but he had, and it was spelled out for him.

  The overall target was now likely to be missed, but worse than that would be the fallout. Unless he could pull the mythical rabbit from the hat, which he knew all too well he couldn’t.

  He was supposed to be the one giving instructions. He was in charge, he was here, in the Pentagon, the entire US army at his disposal but the reality was he was ineffective and powerless. Not for the first time he sincerely wished he had never got involved, had never agreed to be part of it but the fact was it had all gone too far.

  And people were dead.

  Because of him.

  And now he had to get out of this. Bur he had no idea how, and the thing that was keeping him awake at night was how scared he was; terrified of the people who were supposed to be working for him.

  ***

  Reed had his foot down, the old Mustang really moving on the way over to Indigo.

  ‘So, Keane had a bad night, what went on? He start making a load of noise?’ John asked.

  Reed shrugged.

  ‘It sounds like he was making all sorts of threats at first, then he started ranting and raving, demanding to speak to the major. But the guys are well used to assholes, they ignored it, and they didn’t go down there, just as they were told. But if they were in the outer room they could hear him.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound so bad,’ John said.

  ‘No, but this morning when they took his chow in, he had been hitting his face on the bars. Got some bruises and some blood. Insisting on seeing the major.’

  ‘What, is he claiming brutality? Who is he going to do that to?’

  Reed shook his head.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘It won’t make any difference anyway. It’s pointless. Nobody even knows he is there, it’s all deniable. We could stick him back at the motel and he could say whatever he wanted but nobody would believe him.’

  ‘I guess, but we put him there to get some answers. If we end up having to let him go then this has all been a waste of time. Major Turner has refused to see him, but I know he is gonna have some concerns.’

  ‘Tom, he’ll know none of your guys would pull any shit like this.’

  Reed sighed.

  ‘Yeah, I know that. But how does this leave us?’

  John considered, watching the scenery outside fly past in a blur, the traffic actually moving for once.

  ‘Listen Tom, we’ll go and see the major first. Then let me speak to Keane. Alone.’

  They reached Indigo and drove through the gates, John’s pass meant they went in without any delays. Reed made his way through the camp and pulled up among the Humvee’s outside the MP building and they walked in.

  The same corporal came out to meet them. He didn’t look overly concerned.

  ‘How bad is it?’ Reed asked him.

  ‘It’s not much. He’s banged his nose and his forehead, but my guess is he knew what he was doing and didn’t really want to hurt himself too bad. Scared of the pain most likely, don’t blame him for that.’

  ‘Ok, so no sutures?’

  The corporal smiled.

  ‘No sir, nothing like that. I cleaned him up a bit. He wa
s whining and saying he needs the hospital.’

  ‘Yeah, I bet he was,’ John said.

  ‘Good work,’ Reed told the corporal. ‘He eaten since he’s been in?’

  ‘Yes sir. He ate dinner and also breakfast.’

  ‘Can’t be that bad. Jesus. ok, so we are gonna go talk to the major.’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  Reed led the way up the stairs and then stopped at a frosted glass panel door. US Army Military Police Executive Officer was stencilled across the top and below in the centre Major A. Turner. Reed tapped on the glass and waited.

  ‘Come in.’

  They walked in.

  Turner was sitting behind a grey steel desk, with two beaten visitor chairs in front of it. There was a tired filing cabinet in one corner and nothing else. On the desk was a big old ancient computer monitor and a grubby keyboard, some paperwork scattered across the top and two telephones, one black and one red. Turner looked up at them, smiled and said hello.

  John looked around the room. Like every military office he had ever been in. It took him back.

  ‘Feels like I should salute,’ he said.

  Turner chuckled.

  ‘No, we don’t do that in here. We got other things to worry about, save that for the parade ground. So you hear about Mr Keane?’

  ‘We heard.’ Reed told him.

  ‘I’m told it’s nothing, but we got to keep it in mind. I don’t want any shit being thrown at my guys downstairs.’

  ‘Understood,’ John replied. ‘I’m going to talk to him.’

  ‘John wants to go in alone,’ Reed said looking at the major.

  Turner pursed his lips and tapped them with a pencil, thinking, then shook his head.

  ‘I’m sorry John. I can’t allow that. Captain Reed needs to be with you at all times.’

  ‘But …’ John started but Turner interrupted him gently.

  ‘I am sorry. But this is the only way we can do this. John you were in the military, and you have to understand that we are all way out on a limb here. I can’t risk anything blowing up in our faces. So, Tom goes where you go. Look, I got no problem with any of this, and you seem like a squared-away guy to me. But it’s my decision.’

  There was nothing John could say. Turner was absolutely right. And saying they were out on a limb holding Keane in the cells for however long was putting it mildly.

  ‘You’re right Major. Sorry for asking. I just thought I could play the “I’m not in the army so the rules don’t apply” card, maybe intimidate him. Although Tom is way more suited to scaring anybody than I am.’

  Turner laughed.

  ‘Yeah he is a big bastard alright. But a gentle giant. Lucky, nobody outside knows that, so they all think twice when he walks in the room for sure. I get what you are saying. Captain Reed will use his judgement and I trust him. If he decides to use the lavatory while discussions are taking place then that’s how it is. Fair enough?’

  ‘Definitely. And thank you Major.’

  ‘I think we all should be thanking you. But let’s get this done and go for a beer, you can get another cheeseburger. The OC is actually ok here, unlike every other base I been on.’

  ‘Good deal.’

  Turner sat back and rubbed his head with his hands and then looked at them both in turn.

  ‘Well alright. Let’s get this done.’

  ‘Thank you sir,’ Reed said and walked briskly across the room and opened the door. John nodded at Turner and followed the big man out.

  ‘Let’s get a coffee first,’ Reed said. ‘Keep him waiting another twenty minutes.’

  ‘Yeah, good idea. Fuck him if he can’t take a joke.’

  ***

  Leo bought everybody breakfast in McDonald’s. Nobody really knew what to say, while Yann Voorhees would not be missed, for both Rico and Sal this was now a completely new start, and it was very clear that Greg and Rolf were equally unsure of what they were doing.

  They sat around a table, painfully bright sunlight streaming in through big windows.

  Leo ate fussily, looking closely at the food and making disparaging remarks about everything, while the others consumed their meals silently.

  Rolf picked up a discarded newspaper from the table next to theirs and started reading, anything to be distracted from the position they were now in.

  He looked at the headlines on the front page.

  ‘Police Hunt Intensifies’, and the following article had quotes from senior policemen on the hunt for the metro terrorists and suspects for the murder of the army major.

  Leo followed his eyes across to the paper and smirked.

  ‘Yes, that went well I think didn’t it? Good way to use resource. Or I must say good way to LOSE resource. Was waste of time. Like everything so far. All wasting time. There is nothing to show. But now it change. Now it is real, we get what we want.’

  Rico looked at Sal then sat up straight.

  ‘Look Leo, we were paid to follow orders. That’s it,’ he said deliberately, at least relatively safe sitting in the restaurant.

  ‘Or not paid,’ Sal interjected, feeling the same way.

  Now was the time to speak, in a busy restaurant, surrounded by witnesses.

  Leo wiped his mouth and sat back, sipping coffee. He looked at them steadily.

  ‘Paid? Paid for what? You have done nothing. There is no point saying to me, I am not your employer. I am the customer.’

  ‘What Sal is saying Leo, is that we have been here in LA a long time now. We haven’t been paid, apart from a few bucks here and there. We’ve done everything we were told to do. Everything. And there is a lot of cash back there, we saw it. My guess is that’s our wages, and it would be good to earn some money. And not just us, Greg and Rolf too,’ Rico told him earnestly.

  Greg nodded appreciatively. Leo would surely not start anything in a crowded McDonald’s.

  ‘I will see,’ Leo replied dismissively. ‘But first you have to prove yourselves. Today we start. Then maybe tomorrow, next day, we all go home, and if I get what I want then you are paid. All of you.’

  He stared out across the table, eyes glittering. Rico suddenly wanted to go home straight away.

  He swallowed and nodded, thank drank his own coffee slowly, hoping to stay right where he was for as long as possible.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  They had coffee in a small but very busy place a couple of buildings along from the MP headquarters. It was still the army, but done out just like a high street outlet and a lot cheaper. Reed was back in his uniform. John wondered where the hell the army got his shirts.

  He got the call at last from Judy.

  She was excited; the trace was live, finally. They should start to get results within a couple of hours, everything had to be passed through the FBI tech team first, and she had found some solid information on Pinsky. John’s phone beeped as soon as he hung up and he looked at it.

  A reasonably recent picture of Leonid Pinsky along with some basic history.

  Hi spun the phone round on the table and slid it across to Reed who studied it and frowned.

  ‘Jeez, ugly bastard!’

  ‘Yep, hopefully we will be meeting him the flesh before too long.’

  This was welcome news, and now they finally had it they didn’t stay long, both men wanted to get on with it and soon they were back at the MP headquarters, the corporal pulled open the door then they walked down the steps and he unlocked the gate at the bottom.

  They entered the outer room, everything was quiet. John walked across so he could see into the cellblock, but there was no sign of any activity. Reed joined him and then signalled to the corporal who unlocked the gate and stood back.

  John walked in first, down to the end and looked in through the bars.

  Keane was sitting on the bunk, staring at the floor. When he heard the footsteps he looked up, saw it was John then dropped his head again.

  Reed walked across and shook the gate.

  ‘Morning Mr Keane,’ he
said brightly.

  Keane stood up slowly.

  He had livid bruises across his face and a cut on his forehead. He looked tired and dishevelled, and a lot older than when he had been locked up yesterday.

  ‘So what now? This crap over? I get to go home?’ he asked wearily.

  John smiled.

  ‘No Ron. You’re not going home, and you’re not leaving here. Not until we get answers. So you could be in here a long time, but maybe by now you’ve realised how serious we are. You need to understand that we know Ron, we know. Not everything, but we have put it together, and we have even more now from when we banged you up in here yesterday.’

  The corporal appeared with two wooden chairs, set them down facing the cell then walked out again.

  John and Reed both sat down.

  ‘This is such bullshit,’ Keane muttered, shaking his head.

  ‘It could be I guess, it could be,’ Reed replied. ‘But the facts speak for themselves. Everything that happened is down to you, you were the one doing the talking. But we know that. What we don’t know is to who exactly.’

  Keane shook his head again.

  John studied him, Keane looked away.

  ‘Leonid Pinsky?’ John asked.

  Immediately Keane’s eyes widened and he blinked fast.

  And it’s a hit, thought John. One-nil.

  ‘You scared of him Ron? Is that what this is? You been up against him before? Payback maybe?’ Reed asked.

  Keane sat down heavily on the bunk.

  ‘But he’s not the only one, right?’ John spoke gently.

  Keane sighed, muttering something to himself, then sat very still, looking up at the ceiling.

  John and Reed waited, saying nothing. This was the crucial point; Keane had been there all night and would have worked out by now that this was all there was. Nobody was going to help him. Nobody even knew where he was.

  ‘You’re wrong.’ Keane said eventually, but lifelessly, no conviction.

  ‘No Ron, we’re not. And we’re quite happy to say goodbye, come back tomorrow,’ Reed replied.

  ‘This is all bullshit, I swear, I’ve done nothing, I was right there with you, just trying to solve the damn thing,’ Keane said.