by Jordan Dane
Butte, Montana
10:00 pm
Mercer parked down the street from the address Nilah had given him for the anonymous poster, ‘ToxicSupremacy,’ to watch the house from a distance with binoculars before they walked up to it. Shadows moved inside, silhouettes caught between dim lights and thin drapes.
“I count five, but it’s hard to tell. Doesn’t look like a party.” Mercer lowered his binoculars and shifted his gaze through the neighborhood, wary of foot traffic.
Located in a low rent suburb, the clapboard dwelling looked more like a frat house with three dilapidated and filthy-looking recliners spread across the wooden front porch. A rusted vehicle without wheels took up space on the dirt drive and paint cans and trash were strewn across the weed-riddled lawn.
“Anyone see John Belushi?” Kujo said from the backseat.
“Yeah, thanks for the visual,” Ciara said. “That scene from Animal House where Belushi spits out mashed potatoes and says, ‘I’m a zit.’”
“Classic.”
“I’ve seen enough,” Mercer said. “I’ll take Karl and approach the front. Ciara, you take Kujo and Six with you to cover the rear. Don’t let anyone past you.”
“What are we looking for?” Kujo asked as he attached a leash to Six’s harness.
“I doubt these people will call the police, but we don’t want company while we look for anything with a memory chip. That means we confiscate smart phones, computers, or laptops and tablets. The anonymous poster’s handle is ‘ToxicSupremacy.’ Nilah can remotely search any online computer for their Internet activity and proof of any upload. If this bastard connected to the chat room and uploaded that assault video, the evidence will be there.”
Mercer turned off the interior light in the SUV before he opened his door and stepped to the cargo hold to gear up. When he saw an unfamiliar overnight bag next to his weapons, he remembered where it had come from.
“Does this belong to Ichiro Tanaka?” He held up the bag and glanced at Ciara. “It’s his clothes, right?”
“Yeah, it came from the Uptons. Why?”
“Can Six track someone’s scent?” he asked Kujo.
“Yeah, that’s one of his superpowers.” The big man reached into Tanaka’s bag and pulled out a T-shirt. “When we secure the inside, I’ll give him a sniff. We’ll see what happens.”
“Good.” Mercer handed out plastic zip ties to Ciara and Kujo to subdue anyone that gave them trouble. “Let’s go.”
He locked the vehicle and headed for the front door. With a sideways glance, Mercer nudged his head for Ciara and Kujo to disappear toward the back of the house. Windows down the side yard would be tricky. He waved his hand in a silent command for them to watch those points of egress. As his team slipped into the shadows and out of sight, Mercer stood on the sidewalk with his dog.
“Let’s go to work, Karl. Look sociable.”
Mercer knocked on the front door, more than once, until someone turned down the Snoop Dawg. He had his arms crossed, with his hand on the butt of his SIG Sauer P226, as he stared at the man who answered his knock.
“Is this the Sunrise House?” Mercer grimaced at a glassy-eyed man, especially after he read his T-shirt.
He wore a red shirt with CIA emblazoned across the front. That took Mercer by surprise, given his former occupation, until he read the small print under CIA—Cannabis Inhalers Association.
Mercer raised an eyebrow.
“What does the Sunrise House do, exactly?”
He played the part of Mr. Obvious. Mercer didn’t have to hear the man’s answer, not after smelling the pungent aroma of marijuana wafting from inside.
“We’re an authorized grower of medical marijuana, free and clear in Montana, man.”
“Cheech Marin would be proud.”
“Who?”
Mercer clenched his jaw, ready for round two, when a voice bellowed from a back room.
“Who’s at the door, ass wipe?”
Mr. CIA grinned.
“Looks like Five-O…and his dog, Lassie.”
Mercer didn’t wait for an invitation. He reached for the handle, pulled the screen open and walked inside.
“Hey. Not cool, man. I didn’t say you could—” The man in red backed up and let Mercer inside. When his eyes drifted down, he kept his attention on Karl. “That’s a big dog, man. What do you feed him?”
“People who ask stupid questions.”
The disembodied voice from the back room materialized into a large beer gut with a mullet and a sorry excuse for a beard.
“You’re not wanted here, Five-O.” The man raised his voice, loud enough for his associates to hear. That launched a mass exodus of biblical proportion. Feet scrambled and windows were shoved open. Whoever had been in the back rooms, they were flying for freedom. Mercer heard Kujo and Ciara yelling outside.
“Everybody stay put.” Mercer pulled his weapon. He aimed the muzzle at the face of mullet man and kept his voice calm. “No one will get hurt. If you cooperate, we’ll be gone, pronto.”
“We?”
Mercer heard commotion outside and he gripped his weapon tighter.
“Is everything under control out there?”
***
“Too early to tell.” Ciara yelled back to her boss as she braced for a fight.
A wiry guy darted from the back of the house after busting through a door. He left it wide open as he jumped off a small cement porch and raced for a cyclone fence. Ciara caught him mid-stride, grappling his shoulders with both hands, and flung him to the ground.
“I got my rights. You can’t do that.”
“Do what?” she asked. “You mean this?”
She grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back and held it down until he yelped.
“Yeah, that.” He grimaced and craned his neck trying to see her.
“That’s all on you, pal.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a plastic zip tie from her jacket. “Quit moving or you’ll get hurt.”
“Too late. I think it’s broke,” he whined.
Ciara manhandled his wrists until she had him secured.
“I didn’t do it,” he yelled.
“I believe you.” She patted his head, panting. “Didn’t do what, exactly?”
For good measure to stop him from running, she secured his ankles in a practiced maneuver and leaped to her feet with her hands up, feeling like a calf wrangler in a rodeo.
“Yeah, I still got it,” she muttered under her breath.
She searched him for a cell phone or other weapons and found nothing, but she didn’t have time to admire her handiwork. The sounds of a commotion from the side yard forced her to reach for her weapon and run toward the noise before neighbors called police.
In the faint light from a window, she spied Kujo in the shadows and joined him. Her ‘partner on loan’ had a man hogtied on the ground. His dog, Six, cornered a woman and she looked as jumpy as a mindless chicken meeting Colonel Sanders. Before Ciara stepped in to help, Kujo stood with his chest heaving. He glared at the woman and pointed his finger at her face to grab her undivided attention.
“Young lady, have you grown partial to those legs of yours?”
Ciara fought to hide her amusement.
“Stop moving or you’ll get bit.”
The girl stared at Kujo with watery eyes and her lips flapped like a big mouthed bass on a hook. Ciara knew whatever came out of her mouth next would not be coherent. Kujo took pity on her and called off his dog with a hand signal.
Even with Six quiet, the girl wouldn’t settle. Tears streaked her face with black mascara draining down her cheeks. She sobbed and her whole body trembled.
“I called off my dog. What’s the matter now?”
More drama. The girl cried and gasped for air, waving her hands.
“I peed my pants.”
When Kujo rolled his eyes, Ciara snorted.
***
Mercer held his SIG Sauer in a two-handed grip and aimed at the man in charge. The guy
’s eyes were dodgy as if he had something to hide.
“I only want to talk,” Mercer said.
“You got a funny way of palavering.”
“Give me your cell phones. All of them.”
The big man glared at him and gritted his teeth without saying a word. Mercer didn’t know if he would cooperate, until his dog stepped toward the man and growled. Karl liked to ad lib.
“Just keep control of that mutt.”
“Insulting him won’t improve his disposition. Give up your phones. Now.”
The man slowly reached a beefy hand into his jeans pocket, but stopped when Mercer yelled a warning.
“Slowly, and use only two fingers. Don’t make me poke holes in that belly of yours.”
With the big man cooperating, the skinny one did the same. They both handed over their phones.
“Put them on the table and back off.”
When the men complied, Mercer had them drop to the floor and lay belly down.
“Where’s your computer?”
“I grow legal weed, man. Any computer on the premises is for my business. You have no call to—”
He never got to finish. Mercer heard the sounds of his team entering the house—one from the rear and the other around the front.
Ciara entered the house from the back, yanking a skinny man hopping with his ankles bound. She let him drop to the living room floor with a thud, saying, “Sorry. My bad.”
Kujo came through the front entrance, manhandling a man and a shaking young woman who smelled of pee. Six followed his master with ears perked and eager to please. Kujo tossed his two bundles of joy onto the thread bare sofa and made eye contact with Mercer, awaiting orders.
“There’s a computer in the bedroom,” Ciara said. “I can work with Wizard, like we talked about.”
In the company of strangers, Mercer’s team never used the real names of his operatives. They all had op names. Nilah had the handle, Wizard.
“Take these with you.” Mercer handed her the cell phones from a coffee table. “Let me know what you find.”
Kujo pulled a T-shirt from his jacket and held it up for Mercer to see.
“If it’s okay with you, I can work with Six. If he gives an indication, I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, go. Do it.”
Mercer kept his eyes on the prisoners while Ciara worked with Nilah on the smart phones and computer. Kujo took his dog aside and let him sniff for traces of Ichiro Tanaka. The German shepherd worked the interior of the house, without giving a sign. Mercer didn’t have to hear it from Kujo. He recognized a dog without a scent.
After a thorough search, Kujo rejoined him in the living room and gave him a subtle shake of his head. Six hadn’t found any scent for Tanaka on the premises. As the hope for potential clues dwindled to nothing, Mercer had fewer options. He had to press whoever might live in the house and used an anonymous online name.
“Are you Toxic Supremacy?”
Mercer hadn’t directed his question to anyone in particular. He said the name aloud and hoped for a reaction and got one. The surprise mention of the online handle shocked mullet man, who couldn’t hide his reaction.
“Is that what this is about?” Hate filled his eyes and the man’s resentment bubbled to the surface. “If it is, I have nothing to worry about. You don’t know what you’re dealing with, but you will if you don’t leave now.”
Mercer glared at his brazen audacity. The man believed he had an ace up his sleeve. Could that ace be a mayor and his son, or a fancy attorney with legal documents that obfuscated her true intention with immigrants, making them vulnerable?
“You try to arrest me and I’ll be out before you hit the rack.”
Politician, lawyer, or both, whatever this man had in his corner made him damned cocky. Mercer opened his mouth to push him for more, but stopped when he saw Ciara. She came from the back room and only shook her head. She and Nilah hadn’t found a connection to the haters’ chat room and the confiscated devices.
Damn it. He clenched his jaw with his mind racing, but something in mullet man’s smug demeanor signaled Mercer to try another way.
“Cover these bastards,” he said to Kujo.
“Gladly.” The big man pulled his weapon with a stern look on his face.
“Let’s get to work.” Mercer holstered his SIG Sauer and knelt by his dog, Karl.
The Tibetan Mastiff pricked his ears and cocked his head, ready to work. When Mercer had his dog’s full attention, he gave the command.
“Seek.”
Karl lowered his massive head and swept through the small house, darting back and forth. Mercer followed him through each room until the lumbering beast gave his indication sign—laying down and whimpering. Mercer knew he’d struck gold when Karl yelped at a wood panel in the bedroom.
“Good boy.” He ran his hands through the dog’s scruff. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Kujo craned his neck to watch the animal work. He had a puzzled look on his face until he said to Ciara, “What the hell is he doing? What’s that dog searching for?”
As Mercer felt his fingertips along the wall in the bedroom, knocking on the wall in search of the hollow sound of a secret compartment, he heard Ciara explain the talent of his Tibetan Mastiff to Kujo.
“Some people have a name for dogs with his skill. They call them ‘porn dogs.’ He can sniff out anything with a microchip, even something as small as a SIM card.”
Dogs like Karl were rare, but the mastiff had become an invaluable member of Mercer’s team. He loved the animal like family.
“Good job, boy.”
Mercer found a loose panel and shoved on it enough to pop a section free. Inside the wall, he found a thin laptop, a wad of cash, and a loaded Glock. After he pulled out the device, he handed it to Ciara.
“See what Wizard can do with this and scan it for fingerprints. I want a name.”
Ciara smiled and got to work.
***
Minutes later
“Gabriela. Where are you?”
Ichiro called out to her and his voice echoed back from the sewer to mock him. He thrashed in the murky pool until his feet hit bottom and he discovered he didn’t have to tread water. The claustrophobic drainpipe closed in on him. He hadn’t realized how small the main shaft would be. It should have made it easier to spot Gabriela, but he couldn’t find her.
His hip ached to the bone and down his thigh, but he wouldn’t stop searching for her. He shoved through the water, flailing his arms like oars, heading toward the pale bluish light where the sewer pipe bent.
When a shadow moved ahead, he stopped cold and blinked water from his eyes. He didn’t dare breathe as the silhouette loomed larger against the cement, eclipsed by the light. Ichiro had no time to move before the shadow took a familiar shape—and a slow smile spread across his face.
Tiny, frail Gabriela crouched in the water, looking like a drenched angel.
“You dropped me into the water,” she said. “What were you thinking?”
Ichiro crawled to Gabriela, wading through filth. A profound relief gripped his heart and tears burned his eyes. He thought he’d killed her.
“I’m sorry. It was the only way to get us both out of there. Are you okay?” When he reached Gabriela, he opened his arms and held her, listening to the sweet sound of her breathing. After she pulled away, she had questions.
“What happened? These men kidnapped me.” She ran a hand through her tangled wet hair as she struggled to recall her waking nightmare. “They jailed me, then the hospital. Did I dream that?”
“No. It was real. You didn’t imagine it.” He reached for her face and she let him touch her. “We can’t stay here. We have to find a way out and get help for the others.”
Gabriela stared at him with her dark questioning eyes until she slowly nodded.
“Come on.” He held out his hand to her, unsure she would take it. When she did—with her small fingers slipping into his hand—his heart swelled.
“I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Ichiro put his arm around her thin shoulders and led her through the muck, heading toward a dim light. He had no idea where they were headed. He only prayed he wouldn’t get her killed.
***
“The light is getting brighter,” Gabriela said.
She stopped wading through the sewer water and looked exhausted. Unable to fully stand in the narrow drainage pipe, she knelt on one knee to rest. She stared straight ahead and shivered.
“Why is it so cold?” she asked. “I’m freezing.”
Ichiro pulled her into his body to share his heat, but the chill prickled his skin with goose bumps. He wouldn’t be much help.
“The water is flowing somewhere. See?” He pointed down toward a glistening current in the water. “Wherever it’s draining, that’s where we’re going. After we get out of this water, it won’t seem so cold.”
Gabriela nodded as her teeth chattered. Her lips were an odd color and Ichiro worried about hypothermia. He couldn’t let that happen to her.
“Listen. Can you hear that?” Ichiro peered through the shadows and stopped breathing to hear a faint sound.
“What?”
“Sounds like water splashing. I think we’ve come to the end. Let’s go.” He took the lead, in case he needed to protect her.
His feet were numb from the cold water, a blessing since he walked over debris that had probably cut or bruised his skin. Gabriela had endured the same, but they were alive. He had to focus on keeping them that way.
“I see light. Come on, this is it.” He reached for her hand and she took it.
As he neared the end of the sewer drain, the splash of falling water grew louder. He quickened his pace, despite the pain in his hip and the shadows that made it hard to see the edge of the drainage pipe.
“Stay here for a minute, until I check it out,” he said and let go of her hand. “I’ll come back for you.”
Gabriela nodded with a fragile, trusting smile.
Ichiro dropped to his knees and crawled toward the edge. Although a breeze of cool night air touched his cheek and he shivered, he filled his lungs with its freshness and he dared to hope they would be safe now until he reached his destination.