by Bill Sage
Miller was still handcuffed, a black hood over his head. “Can you please take this off?” he asked.
“No.”
Miller kept quiet for a while. Then he spoke up again. “This transmitter is digging into my rib bones.”
“It won’t be long.”
“Why is it so big? I mean…”
“We used two in case one failed.”
“Oh.”
Ben lit a cigarette and took a long drag.
“I guess you won’t let me have one?” Miller asked in a pleading tone.
“Yeah, you can wait.”
“When are we leaving this place?”
“Could be twenty or thirty minutes.”
They sat without talking for several minutes. Then breaking the silence, Ben asked, “How does your hand feel?”
“Still hurts, but better than before.”
“You should’ve never chopped off Burns’ finger.” Then in a raised voice, Ben said, “That was Roth’s wife’s father, for Christ’s sake! He couldn’t let that go without getting pay-back.”
“I can’t believe he’s a judge.”
“He had a life before he was a judge.”
About a half hour later, Al went out to the patio. Jake was out there, standing near the grill, one foot planted on top of the low garden wall.
“We’re getting ready,” Al said.
Jake took a drag of his cigarette and mashed it out in the ashtray he’d brought outside. “Just like the old days, huh?” he said, beaming.
“Yeah, but this is the big one,” Al said, turning around to head back inside. “I know I don’t have to ask you if you’re ready,” he said over his shoulder.
“Al, I’m always ready to kick some ass.”
Boy, is that an understatement, Al thought, walking in front of Jake.
They went into the den. Al picked up the 9mm and stuck it in his jacket pocket. Then they went into the family room, where Hack was watching TV.
“Time to go,” Al said.
“Okay.” Hack turned off the TV, then got up.
“I’ll be right back,” Al said, going toward the stairs.
He went up to say goodbye to Linda. She was in bed, reading, the down comforter tucked under her chin. She looked sad yet still beautiful.
“We’re going, sweetheart. Meeting Claudio’s guy.”
Linda put her hand on his. “I know it’s just a meeting, but you and the boys…you’ll be in my thoughts,” she said, squeezing his hand.
Al kissed her. “I love you, baby. We’ll be back soon.”
He went downstairs to the den.
“Okay, saddle up,” he said.
Seeing Al and the others coming out, Ben opened the door of the Suburban and ran around to the driver’s door.
When Jake slid in next to Miller, Miller must’ve suspected it was him. In a meek voice, he muttered, “If you want me to do anything, just…just tell me and I’ll do it.”
“Right now, all I want you to do is to shut the fuck up,” Jake barked.
Al climbed in the passenger seat. Hack sat in the back on the other side of Miller.
Ben headed for the freeway. As they drove, no one spoke. Jake stared straight ahead; Hack gazed out of the window on his side.
Al was thinking about Linda. Her suffering, how sad she was. How much he loved her.
After entering the freeway and heading to Anaheim, Al’s mind slipped into a “twilight zone,” completely cut off from reality. The only things he was fully conscious of were the drone of the Suburban’s engine and the sounds of the freeway.
He stayed in that mindset until they merged onto the 57 Freeway. Then Al’s thoughts returned to the showdown at Angel Stadium. First, he went over what each guy would be doing. Then he focused on what could go wrong.
What if they double-crossed us?
If that happened, he wanted to nail down exactly how he’d respond. He didn’t want to have to start thinking about it when it was happening. So, he went over his options again.
After mulling it over for a minute or two, he turned around and looked in the back. Jake’s eyes immediately locked onto his.
Al said, “If it ever looks like there’s a double-cross, shoot the fucker.”
Jake nodded once.
42
The Execution
BEN EXITED THE freeway and drove in the direction of the stadium.
“Go right at the next corner,” Jake said. He’d studied a Thomas Guide map of the location.
As they drove into the parking lot, Roth pointed to his left. “Park over there.”
Ben drove past that spot, made a U-turn, and parked. As soon as they stopped, Jake leapt out of the Suburban and stood in front of it. No way could he stay cooped up in the SUV.
Leaning against the hood, he lit a cigarette and waited.
A few minutes later, a Camry drove in and parked a safe distance away, facing them. A second later, Phil came driving in and parked the tow truck next to the Suburban.
Roth opened his door and went up to the front of the SUV with Jake. At about the same time, the kidnapper got out of the Camry. Roth was surprised to see that except for Asher in the back seat, he was alone.
Jake and Roth kept their eyes on the kidnapper as he stepped around to the rear door. But instead of opening it, he just stood there, glancing at them. That concerned Roth, but not as much as what else he was doing.
“Watch him,” Roth said to Jake under his breath.
But Jake didn’t need any prodding. He already had his hand on his Walther and was on full alert.
Finally, the kidnapper opened the Camry’s rear door and helped Asher get out. But he was still doing something, which, if left unchecked, put Jake and Roth in serious danger: He was keeping his right hand stuffed in his jacket pocket, doing everything with his left hand.
“This is bullshit, Al,” Jake said in just above a whisper. “I’m gonna drop that fucker if he doesn’t take his hand out of there.”
Roth slid the safety off the 9mm in his pocket and turned to Jake. “I got it covered. Get Miller.”
Jake grudgingly went back to the Suburban. He grabbed Miller, slid him across the seat. Then after removing the hood and cuffs, he led him up to where Roth was standing.
With Jake and Miller standing by his side, Roth called out to the kidnapper. “I’ll bring Miller up to the lamppost between our two cars. It’s on the left of me, the right of you.”
The kidnapper looked to his right.
Pointing to his left, Roth made sure the kidnapper understood. “It’s over there, close to gate six. You bring Burns over there.”
The kidnapper stared at Roth but didn’t say anything.
“Ash,” Roth yelled out. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
Turning to Miller, the kidnapper said, “Hank…?”
“I’m okay too,” Miller replied.
Then the kidnapper led Asher to the lamppost. While Ben, Hack, and Phil remained in their vehicles, Roth and Jake marched Miller over there too.
As they made their way to the lamppost, Jake repeated his concern about what the kidnapper was doing. “We can’t let him keep his hand hidden from us like that,” he said in a determined voice.
“Be on alert for a takedown,” Al whispered.
Jake didn’t respond, kept his eyes boring into the kidnapper.
Now the two sides stood about seven or eight feet apart. At first, they cautiously studied each other. Roth could tell the kidnapper was nervous; his eyes shooting between Roth and Jake.
Standing next to the kidnapper, Asher peered over at Al and Jake for a second then dropped his head. Roth could see bruises on his face, and like Miller, Asher had one hand wrapped in gauze and adhesive tape.
Getting a good look at the kidnapper, Roth thought he could’ve been a body double for Ethan Hawke. Sort of on the thin side and had a light-brown mustache and goatee.
Then Roth turned his attention to the kidnapper keeping his hand stuck
in his pocket.
Jabbing his finger in the kidnapper’s face as he spoke, Roth said, “Turn around so your back is facing me. Then slowly take your hand out of your pocket. Very slowly.”
“I’m alone. You got this big guy with you and guys back in those vehicles. I need to protect myself.”
“You could’ve brought anyone you wanted. Now you wanna play games instead. So, here’s what’s gonna happen. If you start to pull your hand out of that pocket and you’re not turned around, we’re gonna fill you full of lead. I don’t care if all you have in there is a bag of peanuts.”
“Why don’t you just pretend I’m pulling it out now.”
This guy is either very brave or brain-dead stupid.
After giving Jake a quick glance, Roth turned back to the kidnapper. “We need to settle this without anyone getting hurt,” he said, trying to keep the kidnapper’s attention on him.
The kidnapper was defiant. Just stood there, staring.
“Let’s not go down this path,” Roth said, staying on his game. “We both want the same thing.”
While Roth was keeping the kidnapper occupied, Jake edged himself and Miller ahead of Roth.
“To show you we’re acting in good faith,” Roth went on, “we’ll let you see that Miller is in good shape.”
Now Jake stepped even closer to the kidnapper.
When Jake was in position, Roth said, “Before we make the transfer, I’m gonna need to take a peek into your car.”
The kidnapper gave Roth a perplexed look. “What are you—?”
“I don’t want any surprises,” Roth explained. Then making it look like he intended to walk around behind him, Roth advanced a few steps.
Wary of Roth, the kidnapper froze.
Taking advantage of the opening, Jake lunged at him, smashing his fist into his temple. As the kidnapper stumbled backwards, Jake bashed him again, knocking him to the asphalt.
Swooping down, Jake went straight for the kidnapper’s jacket pocket. Digging his hand into it, he yanked out a Smith & Wesson Pocket Escort .22 and held it above his head.
Roth could tell Jake was furious and ready to explode. He held his breath as Jake brought his arm down and stuck the gun in his pocket.
But coming as no surprise to Roth, that wasn’t the end of it. Unable to control his atavistic impulses, Jake suddenly grasped the kidnapper’s chin and jammed the .22 into his mouth.
“You motherfucker,” he yelled. “I’m gonna—”
“Jake!” Roth cried out.
Motionless for a few seconds, Jake kept glaring at the kidnapper, the gun still in his mouth. Then he slowly got up and went back to watching Miller.
No longer guarded by the Ethan Hawke kidnapper, Asher trudged over to Roth. As he came closer, Roth saw profound relief but also traces of the hell he’d been through. He took hold of Asher’s arm and guided him to stand behind him.
Turning back to the kidnapper, Roth said, “Get up, asshole.”
As the kidnapper slowly rose to his feet, he wiped the blood off his eyebrow and face. Standing up, he nervously eyed Jake, then Roth. Then, peering over at Miller, he mumbled, “What…what about him?”
“We got Burns back,” Jake said. “So maybe you should go fuck yourself.”
The kidnapper looked down, kept quiet.
Laughing, Roth said, “Are you kidding me? After pulling that shit with the .22?”
Turning toward Roth, Jake said, “I think we oughta have a little fun.” Then glaring at Miller, he said, “Break a few bones.”
By this time, Roth could tell both kidnappers were in full panic mode. Suddenly, getting Miller back didn’t seem all that important anymore. Now they wondered whether they’d ever leave that parking lot alive.
But Roth and Jake were way ahead of them. Bringing the .22 hadn’t really changed anything. Although Jake almost blew it by sticking the .22 in the Ethan Hawke guy’s mouth, they still intended to let Al’s plan play out.
So, after staring at the kidnapper for a few moments, Roth said, “Miller’s got two fingers missing. You had your head bashed in. So maybe enough damage has been done.” Then he swung around, making it look like he was checking with Jake.
“It’s your call,” Jake said, knowing what Roth would do.
“All right, a deal’s a deal. We don’t have to, but we’ll stick to it.”
The Ethan Hawke kidnapper sighed and glanced at Miller.
“Bye, asshole,” Jake said, letting go of Miller’s arm.
Miller plodded over to the Ethan Hawke guy.
Still holding Asher’s arm, Roth started heading back to the Suburban. Jake followed, walking backwards, keeping his eye on the two kidnappers.
Back at the Suburban, Roth put Asher in the front seat with Ben. Then Roth and Jake stepped around to the front of the SUV. Leaning against it, they watched the kidnappers as they walked over to the Camry’s passenger door.
After a few seconds, Jake shot Roth an anxious look.
But Roth was already aware of the problem. The kidnappers weren’t jumping in the Camry and getting out of there—they were just standing at the car door, talking. It appeared as if Miller was telling the Ethan Hawke kidnapper about the ‘transmitter.’ He was pointing at his shirt and lifting his arms.
Then, looking down, Miller started fumbling with his shirt, trying to unbutton it. But because he could only use one hand, he was having a hard time. Seeing Miller struggling, the Ethan Hawke guy brushed Miller’s hand out of the way and reached for one of the buttons.
“Shit,” Jake said, looking at Roth.
Roth took a breath, eyed Jake. Then he nodded once.
Facing the kidnappers again, Jake calmly pressed the detonator in his pocket. A loud explosion pierced the night air, blowing the two kidnappers apart. It shattered the whole right side of the Camry; broken glass was everywhere.
The “transmitter” attached to Miller was really two C-4 blocks.
Roth and Jake stood silently for a few seconds. Then Roth said, “Let’s get the hell outta here.”
They piled into the back seat of the Suburban, and Ben took off toward Newport Beach. Phil pulled in behind them, but he was going back home.
“Let’s get Ash back to Linda and Donna,” Roth said.
No one spoke as Ben drove to the freeway. After a minute or two of silence, Asher turned around to thank Roth, but it wasn’t a good time. He was deep in thought, going over what they’d done.
No matter how much he tried to justify it, Judge Roth knew he and Jake had committed multiple counts of first-degree murder. Making Roth even more culpable, he was the guy who mastermind the entire operation. He’d planned and ordered the hits. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was present at the scene, supervising the transfer of hostages and the execution of the kidnappers.
But on the other hand, he also knew it was the kidnappers who started the whole thing.
Out of scores of possible victims, they’d zeroed in on Linda’s father. They forcibly abducted him from his office and held him like an animal for ransom. And then when things weren’t going the way they wanted, they brutally chopped off his finger.
And why did they do that? Not because Asher had been resisting them, but to show Linda they meant business and that they were the ones calling the shots.
But they never even met Linda or her mother. Yet they were perfectly willing to make their lives living hells.
If the kidnappers hadn’t laid a hand on Asher, they’d still be alive today. Instead, they deliberately targeted him, not caring what that did to him or his family. And even though nothing prevented them from abandoning their attempt to extort Linda and let Asher go home, they never made that choice.
Up until Roth turned the tables on them, everything had been nice and rosy for the kidnappers. They were perfectly content with the way it was playing out. Only when one of them had his life on the line did they finally throw in the towel and agree to let Asher go.
For all those reasons, they’d paid the
ultimate price.
In Al Roth’s mind, all he’d done was play the hand they’d dealt him.
43
IT WAS STILL QUIET in the Suburban as the they entered the freeway. Ben was taking his time, driving slowly in the right-hand lane, keeping a safe distance behind the car ahead of them.
“The last thing we need now is to get into an accident,” Ben said in a low voice, almost as if he was talking to himself.
Al heard him. “Yeah, we’re in no rush.” Then he reached over and touched Asher’s shoulder. “You feeling okay?”
Nodding, Asher said, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Then, after a second or two, he said, “Except I won’t be able to count to ten anymore.”
Al and Jake laughed, but not too hard.
“Now I know why they say you got class,” Ben said, keeping his eyes on the road.
“I’ll second that,” Jake said.
Nodding, Asher smiled. Then, after a moment, he said, “All I can say is I owe you guys everything. No doubt about it, I’d be dead if you hadn’t gotten me out of there.”
Jake patted his shoulder.
After thinking for a moment, Asher went on, “You probably already know this, but Miller was an animal. Had severe mental problems.”
“Whaddaya talking about?” Jake asked.
“He freaked out all the time. Was frightened and over his head. Said he’d kill me no matter what happened. A real psycho.”
“He was a nothing,” Jake responded. “I’ve met guys like him before…”
Asher nodded.
“They’re weak on the inside,” Jake said. “Bitter and always blaming others for their own shit. They deserve to get beaten down.”
“Well, he won’t be bothering anyone anymore,” Hack chimed in.
“There was another guy,” Asher said. “He went by the name of Tim. It’s good he wasn’t there tonight. He was the only one who was nice to me.”
Al asked, “Why do you think he wasn’t there?”
“Ed, the guy who took me to the stadium, didn’t want him to be there. He wanted to get all the credit for getting Miller back.”
“In the end, it all worked out for Tim,” Al said. “He took care of you, and we didn’t kill him.”