by Mark Nolan
Anselmo tapped on his computer keyboard and pointed at the display. “I sent this to your phone. Sign it.”
Jake tapped his phone. “Done.”
“You are now authorized and contracted to investigate, surveil, locate, and arrest the bail fugitive,” Anselmo said, reciting from memory.
Vito said, “Jake, the oath keeper is here. Anselmo and I will be your witnesses to the omertà.”
There was a knock on the door and Vito opened it, letting in an older man, bent with age. The man carried an ornately carved wooden box, the size of a loaf of bread.
Anselmo stood and paid the man respect, speaking to him in Italian.
The man set the box onto Anselmo’s desk, opened the lid, reached his arthritic hands inside and removed a knife, a candle, a sheet of parchment paper and a black fountain pen. He stared at Jake with dark eyes. “Read the oath out loud, and then sign your name at the bottom.”
Jake read the ancient words that were first spoken in nineteenth century Sicily, and passed down from generation to generation. When he was done speaking, he signed his name with the fountain pen.
The oath keeper picked up the knife, held the tip against his thumb and nodded at Jake.
Jake accepted the knife, pricked his thumb with the sharp tip, and pressed his bloody thumbprint onto the oath he’d signed.
Anselmo picked up the parchment and read it. He nodded and handed it to Vito, who studied it and handed it back to the oath keeper.
The oath keeper lit the candle, stared at the paper for a minute and then held it over the flame. The paper caught fire and he held on until it was ready to burn his fingers, then dropped it into an empty metal trash can.
“Welcome to the Family,” Anselmo said.
Jake nodded. “Thank you. Get to work on that truck.” He left the restaurant along with Cody.
Anselmo picked up the phone and began giving orders.
Chapter 51
Jake drove to the dance club and saw a long line of people in front, waiting to get inside. He stopped for a moment and observed the club doors opening and closing as people went in and out. Loud music was thumping and flashes of a synchronized rainbow of colors from spotlights and neon-tube lighting spilled from the doors each time they were opened.
Jake drove on past, went around the corner, and parked in an alley behind the club. He and Cody walked to a back door.
A guard was selling drugs to a woman. She handed him cash and he gave her an envelope. When the guard saw the furious look on Jake’s face and his hand reaching for a weapon, he fired a suppressed pistol at Jake, missing him.
Jake shot him in the right shoulder. The man jerked sideways and dropped his pistol. Jake slammed the butt of his pistol into the man’s head, knocking him out. He dragged the unconscious guard behind a dumpster, and found a key on a lanyard around his neck.
The woman stared at Jake in fear, like a deer caught in the headlights. He pointed toward the street. “Go home. Never come here again.”
She ran away and didn’t look back.
Jake used the Guard’s key to open the door. He and Cody went down the hallway, finding a private elevator with a lock. The key opened the elevator, and they stepped inside. There was only one button—the penthouse.
He pressed the button and the elevator rose to the top floor. When the doors opened, Jake came out with his pistol up and ready to fire.
An armed guard charged at him, drawing his pistol. “You’re dead.”
Jake shot the guard in the head and then shot Pavel in the shoulder. “Where have you taken Sarah Chance? To the warehouse?” Jake said.
Pavel held his injured shoulder, gritted his teeth and sneered. “I know who you are. I’ll have your family and friends killed.”
Jake shot Pavel’s left foot.
Pavel cried out, cursing.
“That was the wrong answer. Where is Sarah? Give me the address.” Jake said.
“Speaking of girlfriends—I know where your former girlfriend, Luba, lives. I drive past her place every night. After I make her mine, I’ll kill her along with Sarah, your mother and father and your dog.”
Jake’s face darkened. He shot Pavel in the left kneecap. Pavel fell off the chair, landing on his butt on the floor, screaming in pain. He took ragged breaths. “If I tell you where they’ve taken Sarah, they’ll kill me.” He gestured at the window and the city lights, then pulled off his belt and used it as a tourniquet on his leg.
“You have it backwards. If you don’t tell me, I’ll kill you. But first, I’ll order my dog to rip chunks out of your face with his teeth. One of your men will talk—one who’s smarter than you and wants to live.”
Pavel hesitated. He put his hand on the desktop and tried to pull himself up. Jake shot his hand, and Pavel cried out in agony.
“The next shot is to your crotch.” Jake fired a round into the floor between Pavel’s legs, barely missing his body.
Pavel’s face went pale. “You’re a psychopath!”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Jake said. He held up his phone and displayed a video. “Does this warehouse look familiar? There you are, committing murder. Tell me the address, or I’ll send this video to the police.”
“Okay, you win. I’ll make a deal. Yes, Sarah is at the warehouse. If you let me go, I’ll tell you the address, and then I’ll leave town and never come back.”
“You’ve got a deal, but the next words out of your mouth had better be the address.”
Cody barked and snapped his teeth.
Pavel started to say something, but looked at Cody and stopped. He glanced out the window and shook his head. “The warehouse is on Selby Street, underneath the Embarcadero Freeway overpass.” He recited the address.
Jake held up his phone again and showed a photo of his friend, Stuart. “Do you know this man?”
“I can’t help it if that loser bought heroin from me, until he overdosed on a bad batch.” Pavel’s right hand reached for his ankle, drew a small pistol and fired it at Jake with a shaking hand.
The bullet missed Jake, and he fired at the same moment, hitting Pavel in the forehead.
Cody growled, and looked at Jake for orders.
Jake took a deep breath and let it out. “Sorry, Cody, but he was going to kill both of us. He’s the man responsible for Stuart’s death. I’ve been looking for him.” Jake had always felt partially responsible for Stuart’s death too. On that fateful night, Jake had been at a club. The pounding music had been so loud that he’d missed a call from Stuart. Later that night, Stuart had been found dead from a heroin overdose. Jake blamed himself for not answering Stuart’s call in his time of need. Perhaps now, with the heroin dealer dead, he could find some peace from the heartache.
Cody lifted his leg and peed on the dead criminal.
“Attaboy.” Jake looked around and found Pavel’s mobile phone on the desk. It was locked with a Touch ID fingerprint sensor, so he used the dead man’s finger to open it.
“Maybe I’ll mail this phone to Roxanne, with no return address.” Jake put the phone into a plastic bag, along with the pistol he’d used to kill Pavel. “Now let’s go find the warehouse and finish this once and for all.”
They exited the building and got into the Jeep. As Jake drove off he saw the guard wake up, get to his feet and stumble toward the building while looking at Jake and yelling into his phone.
Jake took an evasive route in case some of Pavel’s gang might come after him. His phone buzzed with a call from Anselmo. He thumbed the answer icon. “Update?”
“The plates are welded onto the truck; I had a group working on it,” Anselmo said. “The shooters you asked for are standing by. Just give the order and they’ll go into action.”
“Let’s do this.” Jake recited the address of the warehouse and gave further details.
“You’re a crazy SOB.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Chapter 52
Jake drove to the ware
house and parked nearby on a side street. He reached into his pack for dog equipment and outfitted Cody with a K-9 Storm Intruder vest—a Kevlar-lined tactical flak jacket with integrated camera and communication system.
He strapped it onto Cody and adjusted a wire that stood up from the dog collar like a little periscope. There was a tiny camera on the end that could see and hear whatever Cody saw and heard. The feed was sent to Jake’s phone. A similar wire extended next to Cody’s left ear, with a speaker on the end that gave Jake a way to speak commands to his partner and hear his response. The vest was also equipped with a bright flashlight, but Jake didn’t turn it on.
He put an earbud into his ear and spoke softly. “Can you hear me, Cody?”
Cody nodded his head.
“Let’s do this. Quiet, now.”
Jake gave a command. Cody ran toward the warehouse in stealth mode, keeping to the shadows.
Jake followed, doing his best to stay out of sight. He sent a text to Vito, who was driving the container truck.
In position?
Vito replied, Yes.
Stand by. We’re going in.
Cody ran down an alley along the left side of the building and found a closed door. Next to it was a window that was open a few inches. He got on his hind legs and sniffed the draft of air coming out of the window.
There was a row of fifty-gallon drums below the window. Cody leapt up onto the drums, walked quietly along the top of them, looked in the window and tasted more of the air from inside.
He smelled all kinds of things: rats, gun oil, ammunition, foreign foods, numerous men, and … Sarah.
Jake saw on his phone display what Cody was seeing—the alley, the drums, the windows—and an empty hallway inside. He whispered, “Cody, do you smell Sarah?”
Cody nodded. The camera feed on Jake’s phone moved up and down.
Jake’s heartbeat increased as he caught up with Cody and tried the doorknob. It was locked so he climbed up on top of the row of drums behind his dog.
The casement window was hinged on one side and opened outward like a door. It was only open a few inches, but that was enough for Jake to reach inside, cut through the screen with his knife, and turn the crank until the window was fully open.
Jake whispered, “Cody, you’re going in.” He grabbed the handle on the back of Cody’s vest, carefully lifted him through the window, and lowered him to the polished concrete floor. “Open, Cody. Open the door.”
Cody turned the doorknob with his teeth. The lock button popped against his tongue as it unlocked.
Jake went inside and quietly closed the door behind him. He patted Cody on the back and whispered, “Search for Sarah. Search and protect.”
Cody sniffed the air and the floor, making his way down the hall toward a stairway.
Jake followed behind and held his pistol up in front of him—ready to kill.
Upstairs in the main office, a man spoke to Elena. “Take a look at this security camera feed. A dog ran past a corner of the building and disappeared.” He held out a tablet.
“Was it a stray dog, a pet, or a working dog?”
“It looked like a police dog, wearing some kind of electronic equipment.”
Elena glared at the image and cursed. “That’s Jake Wolfe’s dog. We’re about to be attacked. Give the order for battle stations. Secure all doors, and bring the hostage to my office.”
Throughout the building, the lights blinked on and off repeatedly. People started running, grabbing assault rifles and taking defensive positions.
Jake heard people yelling, feet stomping and weapons being racked. He sent a text and alerted Vito. They’re onto us. Start the mission NOW. Go-go-go!
Vito replied, We’re rolling. Impact in one minute.
Cody continued down the hall, sniffing along the floor, and then raising his head to smell the air. He climbed the stairway to the office area and began sniffing the carpeted hallway. He stopped at a door, smelling the doorknob and then the open space below the door. He turned to look at Jake.
Jake whispered. “Do you smell Sarah?”
Cody nodded once.
“I’m going to open the door. Be ready to protect.”
Jake reached for the doorknob and quietly turned it.
Outside the warehouse, a flatbed truck carrying a shipping container arrived and backed up fast toward the metal roll-up door. The truck crashed into the door, tearing it off its mounting and sending it flying onto the floor. The truck screeched to a halt, then shifted gears and pulled out until only the back end was blocking the doorway.
Several men inside the warehouse fired automatic weapons at the back of the truck, but the rounds ricocheted off the one-inch-thick steel-plated doors and rear sides.
Ricocheting rounds zipped back and forth inside the warehouse. One man cried out in pain and went down.
As soon as the roll-up door was removed, Vito opened his driver’s door of the truck cab and tossed three flash-bang grenades over the truck and into the warehouse. He closed the truck door, shut his eyes and put his hands over his ears.
There were three blinding flashes like lightning, and three loud bangs like thunder.
After the third explosion, the back doors of the shipping container opened and a dozen men jumped out, firing weapons and killing the enemy gang.
A hallway door opened and several more gang members ran into the area firing weapons. There was another gun battle and the Italians killed everyone. Three of their own men were shot. They were helped outside and into one of the many cars that were arriving and then driven to a highly paid doctor who didn’t ask questions.
Vito gave orders. One of the men got into a forklift, picked up a pallet of shrink-wrapped packs of bottled water, and loaded it into the shipping container. He continued working, loading three more pallets.
Shooters stood guard with their weapons ready. Nobody went toward the pallets stacked with kilos of heroin. The order was that if you tried to take it, you’d be killed and you’d bring dishonor upon your loved ones.
Jake observed Cody as he heard explosions and weapons fire and smelled gunpowder. Cody let out a low growl and one of his back legs trembled.
Jake patted him on the back. “Easy, now.” He opened the office door, raised his pistol, and entered what appeared to be a meeting room. There wasn’t anyone in the room, only a long conference table with chairs around it.
The wall at the front of the room displayed a battle plan and a collage of intel. There were photos of SFPD Police Chief Pierce and his wife, Joyce, and their kids, a map with their street address, and pictures from real estate websites showing the interior of their house. A few images showed the kids getting out of a car at school.
There was an assortment of additional photos and maps targeting other law enforcement officers and city officials. Jake also saw sections that profiled Beth, Roxanne, Terrell and Alicia, as well as Sarah, Cody, himself and the Far Niente.
Jake cursed and used his phone to take photos of the wall.
Cody sniffed a closet door, alerted and sat down in front of it.
Jake opened the door and saw a collection of assault rifles, including AK-47’s, AR-15s, and lots of ammo.
“Leave it,” Jake said
Cody continued sniffing the room. He stopped at a chair, then whined and pawed at it.
On the floor near the legs of the chair, Jake saw two zip ties that had been cut apart. “Was Sarah here?”
Cody nodded. His nostrils flared, and the fur on the back of his neck bristled.
Jake turned toward the door. “Find Sarah, Cody. Seek-seek-seek!”
Cody went out of the room and down the hall, with Jake following close behind him.
Sarah was being force-marched to the main office, with her hands bound behind her back.
A powerfully built Russian man held a tight grip on her upper arm as he presented her to Elena.
Sarah watched as Elena talked on her cell phone. She overheard part of the conversation and it
sent chills down her spine.
Elena ended the call, set down her phone and picked up a pistol. She told the man, “Bring that chair over here and tie her to it.”
The man let go of Sarah and walked toward a heavy wooden chair that sat against the wall.
The moment the man’s back was turned, Sarah attacked Elena with a fierce kick to the throat.
Elena fired the pistol as she fell to her knees, choking and gasping for air.
The shot missed, and Sarah kicked Elena’s hand, making the pistol fly onto the floor.
The big man turned and came at Sarah, swinging his fist. She dodged the attack, kicking him in the knee and hyperextending it backwards. The man screamed and fell down.
There were knives and stun weapons on a desk. Sarah turned her back, picked up a knife with her bound hands, and frantically cut off the zip tie from her wrists. She dropped the knife on the carpet and grabbed a stun baton, shocking the injured man as he crawled toward her.
Sarah heard her martial arts instructor’s voice in her head, saying, Once you get the enemy down, make sure he stays down. No mercy—your life depends on it. She held the shock device against the back of her opponent’s neck until he collapsed, dazed and temporarily paralyzed. She then raised the stun baton above her and brought it down hard, striking a blow to the back of his head and knocking him unconscious.
Elena staggered to her feet, gasping for breath. She ran and crashed into Sarah, knocking her down and sending the stun baton flying out of her hand.
They got to their feet and Elena began fighting with some kind of Russian martial arts.
The two women circled each other, punching and kicking at every opportunity.
Sarah threw one kick too high, leaving herself vulnerable for a second, and Elena leaped forward and head-butted her. Sarah saw stars but struck back with all of her fury and landed a hard blow on Elena’s face.
Blood sprung from Elena’s nose. She tasted it on her lips and gave Sarah a cruel smile. “You’ve seen my blood, now let’s see yours.”