by Ian Jones
‘What? No, of course not. Fuck Leo we’ve been in this shit four fucking months!’ Sal told him.
Pinsky stared at them, and then pulled the Makarov from his jacket.
‘Fuck,’ thought Rico to himself. He had forgotten about that. He was starting to think they should just take their chances with Leo, overpower him and get the hell away.
Pinsky stared at them all.
‘Is true,’ he said quietly then shot Greg in the face.
‘What the fuck!’ Sal exclaimed, but Pinsky was already up and moving.
‘Come on. We go. Now. Move.’
And Sal and Rico, not knowing any better, unable to think for themselves any more had gone with him.
They got to the street and Pinsky had produced his mobile and started dialling furiously.
Rico stared at him, and then grabbed the phone.
‘Leo. This phone. You said you were in Vegas, you said it all got fucked up. What if they got this number man? They could get a trace on it. Jesus fucking Christ. You’ve had this thing the whole time. And you just fucking killed Greg.’
Pinsky stared at him, angry red blotches appearing across his head.
‘Fuck.’
He threw the phone on the floor and ground it with his heel, then stood up and moved fast back onto the street.
They made their way to a junction and got a cab, telling the driver they needed a hotel. Sal suggested Long Beach, it was all he could think of. They came across one on the freeway with a mall opposite and got out there, making their way over so Pinsky could buy a mobile first and then checking in.
So they were comparatively safe now.
But for how long, who knew?
Chapter Forty-One
The FBI office in Los Angeles is in Westwood, just off the 405 and not far from Beverley Hills, which was where John had been heading back to the Montage when all this started.
He was tired of being in LA, sick of the deaths and constantly coming in last. The last place he wanted to be was in a conference room listening to the FBI bitch about the police, while the police try to blame the army, who have no choice other than to sit and listen.
Judy was there, along with the local section chief, a skinny incredibly grey man called Braxton, who so far had done nothing other than to berate chief Brady about Lieutenant Oakes’ failings. Brady was in the meeting with a SWAT captain called Jennings, who angrily blamed the lack of cohesive intel, and the fact that the army had been involved in the first place.
John sat silently alongside Tom Reed, while Major Turner defended them with dignity.
It had been nearly five hours since the events at the train yard, and they had been in this room for the best part of an hour while the voices got louder and they were nowhere nearer any kind of resolution.
So far he had not spoken a word, and neither had Judy or Reed. And with the exception of Major Turner they were the only ones there who actually understood anything.
Braxton was holding forth about other occasions when he had had been forced to act following a failed police action and turning an even darker grey while he did it.
‘Fuck this,’ John said suddenly.
Braxton stopped talking and stared at him, mouth open.
‘Excuse me?’ he managed eventually.
‘Yeah, what did you just say?’ Jennings asked angrily.
‘I said; fuck this. This is all bullshit. It’s been hours and you have done nothing. We have done nothing. These guys are responsible for the deaths of five innocent women in the subway, whoever they were, a good, honest CIA man and now three police officers. Who knows how many others? And all you are doing is shouting at each other. Trying to blame someone else. You know what? Who the fuck cares? You, and unfortunately that means we look ridiculous.’
He looked at Brady.
‘Chief, it was nothing to do with you but Keane was one of your own. And he was in this up to his neck. So what are you going to do?’
Then he fixed his stare on Braxton.
‘And I absolutely guarantee you that there are people right here in this building who are on the payroll of these guys, so you need to start thinking.’
As Braxton started to bluster, John ignored him and turned to Judy.
‘Judy, we know the mobile is out of action, but we expected that. Anything else so far?’
She smiled gratefully at him.
‘We have some sightings, and they are all being checked. The area all around Hobart has been searched. The cops are doing what they can, they are mobilised right through the city. But as of now we don’t have anything definite.’
‘Ok. And what do we know from the train yard?’
‘Chief?’ Judy asked, and Brady passed round some sheets of paper.
‘We have evidence of six men in the yard, we can’t accurately say how long they had been there but we believe only a few days. We’ve been in contact with the developer, he claims the keys have been stolen so we are taking a good look at him. The dead man in the building, the fat guy has been identified. He is one Yann Voorhees, who is known to us, and also the FBI.’
‘Known why? For what?’
‘He is not a nice guy, he has been indicted on kidnapping charges, not just in LA but also in San Francisco and Richmond. High profile people but he was unsuccessful. In all cases the charges were dropped so they never got to court. He has also been investigated by ATF and Homeland Security on gun distribution, which is pending, he dropped off the radar about a year ago. Born in Johannesburg in 1974, moved to the US when he was five. His father worked for Boeing.’
John pondered the information.
‘I don’t get it. What’s his connection to 1-Too?’
‘This actually fits with how we now believe they operate John. They recruit local cells for certain actions. Vorhees could have been with them for years or just a few months. There is no strict pattern we can ascertain, which is one of the reasons we are always behind the curve,’ Judy told him.
‘Right, so they just turn up in LA and set up here to find these military plans or whatever?’ Brady asked.
‘Keane was only brought in a couple of months ago. It would make sense,’ John agreed.
‘We also traced them to an apartment in Mount Pleasant. They were definitely there a lot longer, but we can only find evidence of five men there. Some of the DNA there matches to the men killed at the Metro station, and again at the yard, Voorhees was there for sure,’ Brady continued.
‘Can they have gone back there?’ Judy asked.
Brady shook his head.
‘No. Well not so far, we got a twenty-four-hour watch on the place.’
‘What about the other guy? The one John hit?’ Reed asked.
Brady scanned the sheet of paper.
‘One Rolf Gardner. Thirty-one. Chicago know all about him. Armed robbery, he did four years in Lawrence. Last known whereabouts was St Louis, he got pulled in after a drug dealer got hit in a parking lot but was released without charge. Again, we can’t find any connection to Voorhees, Pinsky or anyone here in the city.’
‘Recruited. It’s how they work. Probably the promise of some serious money,’ Judy stated.
‘And we also got another body, you don’t know about this one. Gregory Tilson, twenty-nine. We found him when we followed the trail into an underground parking lot at the apartments which back onto the land that separates them from the yard. Shot in the head, and the remains of a cellphone were found close by. Judy confirmed the number is this goddamn Pinsky. Local residents heard the shot, it would have been well before we entered the yard. There have been reported sightings of three men in the street around the time, we believe they took a cab, we’re trying to trace it,’ Brady continued.
‘Gardner? Tilson? We didn’t have those names right Judy?’ John asked.
Judy shook her head.
‘No. I got people looking into them right now, try to find out how long they been in the city.’
‘There is no trace of either of them a
t the apartment in Mount Pleasant,’ Brady told them.
Judy made a note, as usual she had her worn notebook and a bulging folder in front of her.
‘So, instead of beating each other up how about we try and get our heads together to find these assholes,’ Reed said reasonably.
Braxton huffed and said nothing, Jennings nodded slowly.
‘Yeah, you’re right. I apologise captain. It ain’t a good feeling losing men, especially when it’s clear as fucking day it could have been avoided. You guys got any details on the other guys with Pinsky?’
‘All I have is one Rico Perez, we weren’t sure about him but John believes he saw him walking to the yard from the hotel with Pinsky this afternoon, we don’t know much about him.’
Judy slid some sheets across the table, Perez’s brief record.
Brady read through and looked up.
‘Armed robbery, but with a toy gun. No history of violence here.’
Judy shrugged.
‘This is always the problem with these guys, it’s damn near impossible to piece them together. We can’t connect Pinsky, Voorhees, Tilson, Gardner or Perez or the guys from the Metro station we know about. And we don’t know any more about Voorhees than the LAPD. They seem to be able to recruit out of nowhere, they find these guys who fit what they are looking for somehow. If we could find out how the hell they are doing it then that would be a major step forward.’
‘Well, I can make a guess,’ Brady said sombrely.
Everyone looked at him.
‘Cops. They are the connection. They know these guys, they are in the system, it has to be them. A simple request, right? I need a couple of guys; yeah, sure I can get you some names. So it’s everywhere, it ain’t just Keane here in LA, it’s all over.’
Everybody stared at him as the reality of the situation set in.
‘Cops? But how many?’ Judy asked.
Brady shrugged.
‘I got no idea. But it isn’t like they will turn up with a Ferrari nobody knew about. My guess it’s the same deal we get with the press, always someone happy to talk. For a couple of hundred dollars, who’s to know? And it’s probably no more than a chat in a bar to start with, the exact same in every city I guess. I will make a start with my precinct and I will pass it on you got my word on that.’
‘Well, I want to …’ Braxton started but was interrupted by Brady’s mobile phone ringing. He raised his eyebrows while Brady jabbed the screen to silence it.
‘I was going to say; I believe that I don’t have that problem here. But I will make enquiries,’ Braxton continued.
Brady’s mobile rang again, and he silenced it. He shrugged and looked around apologetically.
‘It makes sense. I don’t like to hear it, but yeah, it does add up. I have to admit we never considered that, and it’s been something we have wondered for some time. We decided they must have a database, but this is much more obvious. And simple.’ Judy said, still writing in her notebook.
‘But it doesn’t help us now,’ John said woodenly.
‘So it’s a waiting game?’ Reed asked.
‘We don’t even know if they are still in the city,’ Jennings admitted.
There was a knock on the door and a police officer entered. He looked embarrassed as he made his way over to Brady, holding a radio.
‘Er … sir?’
Brady looked up at him irritably.
‘Can’t you see I’m busy here?’
‘Er … yes, I am truly sorry sir. But it’s control. And they say it’s real urgent.’
Brady snatched the radio and keyed the button on the side.
‘Brady here, what’s so goddamn important?’
He held the radio to his ear. His face dropped. His eyes widened. He scrabbled around for a pen and started to write.
‘You absolutely sure about this?’ he asked tersely.
Everyone in the room could hear the raised, rushed voice from the radio.
‘Ok. I’m on my way.’
He passed the radio back and stood up.
‘We just got a call. Somebody called 911 name of Sal Rodriguez. And he claims to be who we are looking for. He named the train yard. He’s waiting for us, at a hotel.’
Chapter Forty-Two
Sammy King watched Moran shouting and raving at another unlucky individual. Normally whenever she saw this happening she would feel grateful it wasn’t her for a change but now it just made her angry. Why did Costas bother with him? Despite their recent successes morale in the office had plummeted, cliques were forming and a couple of people had resigned. Moran had become so unpopular that most of the staff actively avoided any contact with him, and who could blame them.
Simon had started to catch it too, mostly because he liked Sammy and spoke up for her. He was young, and good at his job, and would be an asset elsewhere, but he was happy here, so she would make sure Costas knew exactly why he wanted to leave if he ever made that decision.
Her show had gone well that day, she had discussed meeting the British man who was on the platform at the Metro station but had chosen her words very carefully and not gone into too many details. There would be a time for that she knew, eventually the police would have to lift the restrictions.
She thought about John Smith and smiled. She liked him, he was very interesting, she had never met anyone quite like him. She hoped she would see him again. She picked up her mobile and wondered whether to send him a text, when it suddenly started ringing. At first she thought it could be John, but then recognised the number and shuddered.
Jimmy Frost. Shit.
She swallowed, and then answered.
He spoke in an exaggerated drawl.
‘Hey sweetheart, I just heard something. And I reckon you are going to be VERY nice to old Jimmy the next time you see him, I’m expecting a good time, goddamn more than giving me a hundred bucks is for sure.’
Expect all you want, she thought to herself, but replied through gritted teeth.
‘Oh hi Jimmy. Of course, I’m always nice aren’t I? So what did you hear?’
‘Well, before I get into that, how about we fix up a date right now?’
She swallowed again. This wasn’t getting any easier.
‘Yeah, yeah Jimmy, but I am really pushed right now. I’m behind schedule, you know how it is.’
Frost sighed heavily down the phone, she heard him smack his lips. She did not want to think about what he was going to suggest next.
But she got lucky. This time.
‘Fuck it. ok. But we meet and I am expecting a proper reward ok?’
‘Sure Jimmy, sure. Please, what have you got to tell me?’
‘Cops just got a call. 911. One of the guys they got in the frame for the Metro, and probably that army major who got offed too. He’s turning himself in.’
What?
‘Er … you sure Jimmy? Is this for real?’
‘As real as what I got waiting for you baby. He’s at the High Tower Hotel. It’s near Long Beach, a shithole but that’s where he is.’
Sammy started waving frantically at Simon.
‘Ok, wow, that is massive. Thank you, Jimmy, you won’t regret it, let’s get together real soon. Bye.’
She hung up just as he started to make his demands, and relayed the news to Simon, and more importantly to Moran who for once in his life was speechless, but immediately started to rally a crew.
If they got moving fast LA Plus would be first on scene. Again.
***
Westwood to Long Beach was one of those journeys where if you looked at a map it looked straightforward, all freeway, nice and easy but in reality could take forever.
But not this time.
They went down in three LAPD cruisers, two SWAT vans and two FBI cars, all with lights flashing and sirens blaring. John didn’t think he had ever travelled as quickly through traffic and in the dark it felt like being in a weird surreal video game. Brady and Jennings had got teams together like lightning, and they were setting up
as they drove. John and Reed were in the back with a grim-faced young black officer driving and Brady in the passenger seat, his mobile glued to one ear and his radio the other.
‘Ok, the local guys have it all pinned down. Hotel has been evacuated, they are holding two guys apparently, and there is a third injured,’ he explained over his shoulder, holding onto the grab handle above the door as the car weaved in and out.
‘What do you know about them?’ Reed asked.
‘Not a great deal so far, other than they are compliant. Injured guy been gut shot. I have instructed to detain them until we all get there, but the injured guy needs the ER I’m told.’
‘How about the hotel? Any reason to be concerned there?’
‘I don’t know the place,’ Brady admitted, then looked at the driver. ‘Mean anything to you?’
‘It’s known to us yeah. Calling it a hotel is a stretch, it’s a dump. There will be some players there for sure, they happy renting rooms by the hour. But the Long Beach PD will be all over it,’ the driver growled in response.
They crested a rise, and then pulled off the freeway where the driver made a sharp left turn. The hotel was there, in front of them, a modern ugly four-storey beige building. The whole area was a sea of flashing red and blue lights, there were police vehicles everywhere. The driver pulled up as close as they could and they all got out. Brady made his way through the congestion and was joined by Jennings. They got into a conversation with a couple of senior officers at the hotel entrance. Everyone looked relaxed, unhurried.
Brady turned and waved at John, so he and Reed headed over.
Brady was smiling.
‘Let’s go on in. I think you’re going to like this.’
They walked into a dark, dingy lobby, empty apart from a reception desk which was a small square window set in the wall under the stairs. In the centre of the room two men were kneeling down, side by side with their hands on their heads. There were several officers watching over them.
‘That’s Perez,’ John said quietly to Reed who nodded.
‘The other one has to be this Sal Rodriguez character,’ he replied.