Once More to Die

by Jim Johnson

  “The Attorney General? He sort of followed the Janet Reno model. State’s attorney, then became the Federal Attorney out of Miami-Dade. Picked from that position as a third choice by the president.”

  “And?”

  “That’s the thing. The state’s attorney part. In Florida, district attorney’s are called state’s attorneys. Political connections, you run for office from that platform or you get appointed higher. This AG got appointed from Tampa to Miami, a state job, to the federal job.”

  “A lot of mention of Tampa,” Linda pointed out.

  “Yes, ma’am. It was a convoluted trail to work out, but the info is there if you dig hard enough. When the AG was up and coming, he had a mentor. A certain judge. The AG became state’s attorney right after his mentor was shot down. Lots of rumors about mob connections, none proved. The prime suspect eventually came down to our Mr. Atkins. But with no evidence, they grabbed him on racketeering. The reason he was in state custody so long was that the state’s attorney put a hold on him trying to get him for murder. But before he did, the prisoner escaped.” Sandy cleared her throat. “Some years later, that same state’s attorney became the federal attorney and then when this president took office, a couple of appointments fell through for various reasons, and finally he picked the Miami federal attorney for the AG post. Fast forward and here we are.”

  “Good work, Sandy,” Linda said. She raised her almost empty glass to Suzie Q. “And your instincts reign supreme.”

  “Bad news for us,” Suzie said, her hand rubbing Linda’s leg above the knee. “That can only mean that the AG’s toy-boys are around and active. That bald headed marshal is one sharp cookie and he’s been around long enough he can smell smoke before it becomes smoke.”

  “You’re saying we now have a sense of urgency?”

  “You bet. Sandy? I’m putting you on hold for just a second.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Suzie hit the button. She continued to stroke Linda’s leg. “Listen, Linda. We got a major problem. That marshal’s going to ferret out what’s going on. It wouldn’t surprise me that he’d show up any time.”

  “We don’t want him to find out how fucked up things are?”

  “No we don’t, hon. The way bureaucracies work, it isn’t going to be good. If another agency becomes involved then we’re back to being held accountable. They can’t keep it in-house for us; they sell us down the river to insure their own survival, even if it is not our fault. Even if we’re pure as the driven snow and were simply doing a great job to serve and protect our country. They’d still hang our ass.”

  Linda grinned. “I’d love to say you were in charge and I was just a worker bee, but that ain’t the case. I’m the FBI rep.”

  Suzie pouted at her. “You wouldn’t jump ship on me.”

  Linda took Suzie’s hand. “Not in a million years.”

  “We gotta get this thing fixed right away. We’re out of time.” Suzie picked up the phone and clicked it off hold. “Sandy?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Look up the coordinates of the official 13 training location. It’s out by the Dade County line. There’s a landing strip on it, I’ve been there before. Call our pilot and have him ready to go before dawn. He’ll complain, but the landing strip is long enough for the jet.” She’d been through this previously; pilots were a safety conscious bunch. She knew a Cessna 560 Citation Encore, the model they’d flown down here in, could land in less than 2,800 feet and take off short of 3,400 feet. Those numbers were what the aircraft was rated for, but any good pilot could take a chunk out of that.

  “Got it.”

  Suzie clicked off. She ran her hands over Linda’s legs some more. “We can get a few hours of sleep here and head straight to the airport.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Linda stood and pulled Suzie up. “I do see more than sex in your eyes.”

  Suzie gave a sweet smile. “You bet. Think about this. This aforementioned judge that our Mr. Atkins offed?”

  “And?” Linda led the way inside.

  “If he was crooked and linked to the mob, how does our fine AG fit into that equation?”

  “Doubtless he’s clean, Suze. Or they wouldn’t have vetted him to be AG.”

  “Sure. But we could raise so much smoke about it that the AG would rather play ball with us than let those nasty ole marshals take us down.” She smiled brightly. “We just got us a get-out-of-jail-free card, my dear.”

  They sat opposite each other as the two engine jet banked and leveled and banked again. Suzie could hear the pilots grousing through the accordion door. She scratched Fluffy behind the ears and watched Linda clean her weapons.

  “Pool water doesn’t help your gun,” Linda said.

  “Nor apparently, your disposition,” Suzie said. “That gleam in your eyes spells revenge to me.”

  Linda looked up at Suzie expectantly.

  “Getting even should not interfere with our mission.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It shouldn’t be on the menu.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It shouldn’t cloud your judgment.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The aircraft banked again. The copilot slid the accordion door aside. “Look out the port window. A giant plume of smoke. Be advised that’s our target.”

  Both women turned to stare. Dawn had washed over the Everglades and the area looked bleak. The Cessna made a high level pass and Suzie saw oil smoke churning into the sky from amongst the buildings of the base.

  “It’s clear to land,” Suzie told the copilot.

  “Your wish is our command.” The copilot slid back and the door closed.

  “Smart ass,” said Suzie.

  Linda was still staring out the window as the aircraft banked again into a short turn and lined up on the runway. “Looks like the party’s already started.”

  “Tommy this, and Tommy that, I think Tommy shoots and Tommy explodes stuff,” said Suzie.

  “This is liable to be dicey, Suze.” Linda finished cleaning and put the kit under her seat. She reloaded all her guns. “Suze?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Don’t over think this thing now, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It appears to me that we’re past the machination stage, we’re to the shooting stage.”

  “Yes, ma’am. If necessary.”

  “And I doubt if we have any allies here, Suze. We’re on our own.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I have confidence in you.”

  Linda gave Suzie a knowing smile.

  The government Cessna 560 Citation Encore touched down right at the end of the skinny runway and soon bumped to a stop. The pilot swung the aircraft around and taxied to a parking slot at the base of the make-shift tower.

  The copilot opened the door on the left side behind the cockpit.

  As they jumped to the asphalt, Suzie told him, “Wait for us. And keep the dog with you, okay.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  “You got my cell number, I just checked and I have bars. And keep your head down, there might be some gunfire.” She paused. “Never mind what you hear going on, we need you here to exfiltrate us immediately if necessary.” Obviously so the two crew were not part of things and wouldn’t be witness. The two JTF 13 agents had to continue to cover their ass.

  He nodded at her absently as he watched Linda’s rear end and legs shown through her yellow sun dress. Not perfect clothing, but they hadn’t made it back to the hotel to change.

  Suzie shook her head.

  “This crew’s all right; we flew into worse down in Columbia a couple of years ago.”

  “Well, his eyes were stuck on your tits and your ass.”

  “He’s a puppy dog.”

  They walked toward the combat tower. A hundred yards from the tower sat an elderly Black Hawk helicopter. In a minute a jeep came around a building and headed for them.

  The smoke was still pouring from ahead
. Dawn mosquitoes swarmed and Suzie swatted at an errant cloud of them. “This is disgusting.”

  “City girl,” Linda accused.

  “Bet your ass, sweetie.”

  Linda’s eyes never stopped roving.

  The jeep pulled up alongside them. A man with captain’s bars got out.

  “Who are you? What is it you want?” He stuffed a cell phone into his breast pocket.

  Suzie fixed him with a glare. “Who are you, captain?”

  He stiffened at the command in her voice.

  “I am the executive officer.” He stood straighter. He was clean shaven and Suzie could tell he thought he was a real ladies’ man. He eyed the two women.

  “We came to see García,” said Suzie.

  “What about?”

  “We’ll take that up with him.” Her voice took on a tone of anger.

  The exec looked over his shoulder back at the camp as if he’d just come from a firefight. Maybe he had. “Commandante García is not available right now. I will tell him you came.”

  Linda stepped forward and flashed an ID. “JTF 13. Take us to García.”

  The captain stared at her and her out of place yellow sun dress. “But—I cannot.”

  Linda shook her head and her demeanor changed.

  “Is Mrs. García here, too?”

  The executive officer looked worried. “You’ll have to ask the Commandante. My orders are to put you back on your jet and see you off.”

  “On that jet?” asked Linda, pointing.

  He glanced over at the aircraft. When he returned his gaze, Linda’s automatic was staring him in the eye.

  “You drive, we’ll ride.”

  Linda sat behind the driver’s seat with her weapon to the back of the captain’s head. Suzie Q rode in the passenger seat.

  “Just a minute,” said Linda. She nudged the captain’s head with her gun. “Head over to that chopper.”

  “But—”

  “Do it.”

  In a minute he pulled the Jeep alongside the Black Hawk. Linda jumped out, her dress billowing. “Watch him, Suze.” She stepped into the open door of the chopper and disappeared.

  Suzie Q kept her weapon on the captain.

  In two minutes, Linda hopped out of the craft and climbed back into the rear of the Jeep. “Let’s go.”

  The captain looked at Linda strangely and put the vehicle into gear.

  Suzie glanced at Linda and she smiled widely. Suzie now understood. Linda had somehow booby-trapped the chopper to prevent someone, probably García, from using it to escape.

  They wound through the base and approaching headquarters, Suzie could tell some kind of firefight had occurred. She exchanged a confirmation glance with Linda.

  The devastation around the motor pool was extraordinary. “What happened here?” she asked. She smelled burned fuel.

  The captain kept driving and ignored her.

  Shortly, they pulled up in front of headquarters. The captain hit the horn once and Linda ground the muzzle of her weapon into the back of his head. He climbed out with her right behind.

  She withdrew her gun as they walked to the entrance and started climbing the stairs. Warning flags flew to her; bullet holes and splintered wood stared at them.

  Immediately, Diego García appeared and came through the double doors. “Captain, did you not tell them we were unavailable?”

  “I did, Commandante. They insisted with weapons.”

  “Ah, I begin to understand. If I do not already have enough trouble with women today.”

  Suzie stopped. “García? What’s happening here? Mutiny?” She figured well what was going on, she needed to give him something to grasp.

  Linda was beginning to feel like they were in an untenable position.

  “Not at all, Ms. Quantrell, isn’t it?”

  Suzie nodded.

  “Suze!” Linda’s warning was too late.

  “Kill them,” García said loudly and dived back inside.

  Linda shot the executive officer in the back of his head and his head exploded spraying blood and gray matter forward.

  Suzie had her weapon out as several soldiers ran around a corner shooting.

  Suzie dropped to a knee to present less of a target and began firing.

  Linda fired, dove and rolled in the dirt and came up shooting. The three went down almost immediately.

  Another soldier stepped out of the front door with his M-16 on full auto and a line of rounds etched through the gravel and coral and dirt of the parking area and across Suzan Quantrell.

  Linda fired and that soldier’s left eye disappeared.

  Suzie spun as if hit by a car and went down limp, blood beginning to stain her white blouse under her jacket.

  Linda fired through the open doorway and her gun ran out of ammo. She pulled her hideout from under her dress and hunted for a target as she scrambled to Suzie.

  “Suzie, goddamnit, talk to me.”

  Linda saw movement in an upstairs window and fired two rounds through it at waist height so as to not over correct for the acute upward angle. No further movement right away, so she opted to get them out of the line of fire out in the open instead of reloading.

  That was her mistake. She had to make a judgment call and she did so.

  She was already on high adrenaline. She grabbed Suzie under her arm and dragged her along the porch of the headquarters. She heard movement hurrying toward them from somewhere offset of the front and the jeep which had brought them.

  Linda got Suzie against the wall near the corner when incoming fire stopped her. Gray painted concrete block chipped and shards flew stinging her shoulder. She stood quickly, her hideout revolver ready. She spotted the shooter hiding behind a Humvee and snapped a quick shot at him with no results. Another three or four men ran across the parade ground toward them, rifles at ready. She fired her last couple of rounds at them. She bent and dug out two magazines from Suzie’s jacket pocket. She stepped back and retrieved Suzie’s automatic, dropped the magazine and replaced it with a full one.

  More fire came her way, and she went to fire Suzie’s weapon and nothing happened.

  “Damn.” A quick glance told her the 9 millimeter had been grazed by one of the M-16 rounds. She dropped it and dug in her pocket and came up with more .38 rounds, her last, for the revolver. She dropped to one knee dumping the empties and feeding the last rounds into the gun.

  A very large man, bigger than Atkins, saw her trouble and swaggered around the corner with a wide grin. He had sergeant stripes on his BDU’s. He looked down Linda’s cleavage and his grin widened. Linda shot upwards, the round entering his mouth and traveling all the way through his head on an upward trajectory.

  More shooting sounded and she shot the man behind the Humvee, this time hitting him as he aimed. His surprised look faded as he sank to the ground, head lolling.

  A MAC-10 or a MAC-11 opened up and Linda knew she and Suzie were goners. Likely a thirty-two round magazine. She decided it was probably a MAC-10 as the rounds sounded more like 9mm than .380 rounds—although M-10’s could fire .45’s. The incongruity of the very non-military weapons did not escape her. The first pass went above her head and she took her revolver in both hands in the approved manner, and locked in on the machine gun’s location. He was firing over the hood of a pickup. Linda was at a bad angle but fired two rounds. The windshield of the pickup starred and the shooter ducked, but that was it. Two shots left. She fired one through the pickup’s window to scare the shooter into an exposed position. He took the bait and popped out over the hood once again, finger on the trigger and another line of fire raced toward her.

  Linda Lavender stood determined over the top of Susan Quantrell’s unmoving body with one shot remaining. She ignored the chattering fire and pounding noise screaming towards them and calmly fired her last round and watched as the shooter’s head disappeared in an explosion of flesh.

  More incoming fire traced its way toward her. In case she’d miscounted, she triggered h
er revolver once again and again, with only dry, lifeless clicks to reward her.

  The enemy seemed to realize her predicament and one by one, a half dozen jungle BDU dressed soldiers stood and began walking toward her.

  Linda threw her weapon at the lead soldier who laughed and ducked it easily. He stepped onto the landing as Linda stood over Suzie, protecting her to the bitter end.

  The soldier laughed again as he came forward and died with the grin on his face as Linda snatched her hideout knife from its position on her upper leg under her blood-stained yellow sun dress. Blood sheeted from the soldier’s throat and he simply folded to the ground.

  Three other soldiers cursed and jumped upon the landing, rifles lifting to end it all.

  Linda looked down at Suzie and said, “Fuck it.” She dove at the lead soldier who was too close and not expecting Linda to continue the fight. The knife ripped into his neck and severed an artery. She used her momentum to fling his body at the other two and they scrambled aside. She followed through, the knife arcing and slicing into another’s thigh, eliciting a scream of pain and that man fell back, wounded but not dead. However, the knife had lodged into his flesh and likely gotten lodged against his hipbone and his frantic retreat tore the knife from her hand.

  She continued the movement and her foot swept around aiming at number three’s throat. Her momentum sufficiently slowed, he easily stepped aside. So she tumbled into a roll and knocked the last man off his feet. Her lancing hand crushed his Adam’s apple and she came up with his M-16 ready to fire.

  The entire enemy contingent had fallen into a stunned silence.

  Linda saw a couple of men squatting behind a Jeep and she fired under it, hoping to take cut off their legs.

  That action renewed fire against her once again. She stood to her full height and raised the weapon to her cheek and clicked on single fire. She didn’t know how many rounds she had left. But she did know her position was untenable. She saw movement and fired once. She spun and leapt back upon the landing and grabbed Suzie with a quick ducking move and stood with an effort, Suzie slung over one shoulder. More rounds came their way and she skipped aside.

  But something was wrong. She couldn’t stand. Her left leg crumbled and she sank down, Suzie still hanging from her shoulder, bleeding all over her favorite yellow sun dress.