by Jon Mills
When he showed up to collect on the money that was owed to Gafino, a Hispanic man had opened the door. Inside he was met with a scene that made the task difficult. The guy had a wife and three kids there. His wife was pregnant with their fourth child. The whole incident stuck out in his mind because he learned a valuable lesson that night. He still had the wound to show for it. The guy’s name was Tomás. He knew immediately why Jack had shown up. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
“Not here, please. I don’t want them to know.”
Back then he would listen to those he was sent to kill. As the years went on, he stopped listening. Doors would open and he would shoot them and walk away. But when he was younger, he was interested in seeing how they would try to wiggle their way out of a situation they had placed themselves in.
“You’ve bitten the hand that feeds you, Tomás.”
“I know. I know.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t think he would know. I know, stupid.”
“So how do you want to do this?”
Murder seemed strange back then. To think that his job was killing people, or hurting them badly. To ask them how they wanted to go was absurd but for a time that’s what Jack would ask.
“The window. I would rather make it look like a suicide.”
Tomás led Jack into a separate apartment that he used for dealing drugs out of. No one was inside. A lone table was in the middle of the room. A fine trace of powder remained on the table. As he got closer to the window, Tomás started to get agitated. That’s when the pleading started.
It always happened. Some would plead for their lives the moment they laid eyes on Jack. Others would try to act like a man and take what was coming for them only to fall apart in the last few seconds. These were the same scum that had raped, murdered, and tortured other people for far less. For years Jack felt nothing for them. They had dug themselves a grave. He saw his job as merely covering them in dirt. They were dead whether he showed up or not.
Tomás paused at the window, his hands trembling. Back then Jack brought a gun, but didn’t always pull it. Other times he had a knife. Most often he would just throttle a person with his bare hands or use anything that was within reach.
That day he had expected Tomás to just lift the window up and jump. As insane as it sounded, he’d seen many prefer to choose how they died than to face the unknown of being handed over to Gafino. Death was never the same for each person. For some, Gafino wanted their death to be drawn out. In those cases Jack would usually return them to Gafino. He preferred other methods.
What Jack had missed that day was what Tomás had done. He had taken PCP before he had opened the door to Jack. It wasn’t that this made a person strong, it just prevented pain signals from reaching the brain. Which meant not only was he about to deal with a psychotic episode but he would come within an inch of having his life taken from him.
Tomás spun around and lunged at Jack. It was the one time Jack hadn’t expected it. The knife came down hard into his shoulder. He winced in pain as he began a fight that lasted for over ten minutes. It was bloody and painful. By the time he had managed to pry the knife from his hand, and punch it up into Tomás’s skull, the damage had already been done. His own stomach had been torn by the blade.
Jack’s mind drifted back to the present. Upon reaching the fourteenth floor he was mentally prepared for the worst. He wasn’t planning on negotiating, or giving anyone a way out. Had he managed to get Jason to tell him more, he might have been able to ready himself, instead he remained empty-handed when the door opened.
14
Dana had been on edge ever since returning to the hotel that morning. What made it worse was that until Jack had texted her to let her know that he’d found Jason, all she could think about was the events that played out in Rockland Cove a year ago.
She wasn’t prepared to go through it again.
This was the very reason why she didn’t want to get involved with Jack again. Some people had baggage in their life. Past marriages, debt, kids, or personal issues. Jack took it all to a whole new level. She knew it was foolish to think he could walk away from a life in the mob. They didn’t let them go easily, especially not those who had killed their own. There was a debt to be paid and he was the one that now owed it.
A part of her wanted to call the police, but she thought that might only make it worse. Perhaps she would be considered an accessory to whatever shit he had been a part of since being in the city. What she wasn’t aware of was that police already knew about her. And after losing sight of Jack, they were now en route to the hotel, as were two of the Sicilian Mafia. Both sides wanted her, for one reason only. To lure Jack back out into the open.
Anxious to hear word from Jack, Dana sat on the edge of the bed. The TV was on but the volume was down. She was biting her nails. It was a habit she had for years. Any time she was stressed out.
When she heard the banging at the door, she figured it was room service. Peering through the eyehole she saw two men.
“Police, open up.”
“Show me your badges.”
They flashed them.
After she unlocked the door, the men introduced themselves as Frank Banfield and Charlie Westwood. They asked if they could have a moment with her. She invited them in. The door to Jack’s room was open.
She took a seat at the small table. Charlie looked around while Frank began questioning her.
“What is your association with Jack Winchester?”
“We date, or we have dated.”
“You do or you don’t?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I bet. Ms. Grant, what is the nature of your visit to the city?”
She shrugged. “New Year’s Eve. We were planning on meeting his sister.”
“Are you aware of Jack’s affiliations with a crime family from New Jersey?”
And there it was. The question that was liable to send her down an endless stream of questions.
“No.”
His eyebrows rose as he studied her. She always felt uncomfortable in the presence of the police, as if they were somehow trained to read minds. As absurd as it sounded, that’s what it felt like when she was around them. Charlie’s phone buzzed and he glanced at it.
“Frank, looks like we might have another shooting.”
Frank nodded.
“Ms. Grant, we’re going take you down to the station.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“No, but I’d like to have one of our officers get a bit more information from you.”
“I’m waiting for my son.”
“It shouldn’t take too long.”
She nodded reluctantly. She grabbed her coat and purse and exited the room. As they stepped outside into the hallway and began making their way down, two men came around the corner in the distance. Emotionless and without any regard for life, they pulled out handguns and fired. Before Frank could react, the first shot hit Charlie in the shoulder, sending him to the floor.
Frank grabbed a hold of Dana and pulled her back towards the room with one hand, while the other raised his gun and began firing. But they couldn’t get back into the room as Dana had left the keycard inside. Frank continued firing as the men strolled forward without a care in the world. Frank pushed Dana towards the stairwell. Once they got inside he kept a hold of her while he fired shot after shot. Charlie was still out there. Frank tossed his phone to her. “Call the police now,” he said.
“But...”
It seemed odd calling the police.
“I know.”
The men forged forward even after they had pumped several more bullets into Charlie. His body went limp.
“Go.” Frank yelled for Dana to get down the stairs. They raced to get down to the lobby. As they burst through the doors to the stairwell, Frank tried to tell people to get out but they must have thought he was joking. He raised his gun and let off a round. That was all it took. Guests in the lobby ma
de a beeline for the doorway.
The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. The two men came striding out with little fear. This was normal to them. There was no fear of who might see them, or even shoot at them. A security officer for the hotel pulled his weapon and fired a round before getting killed with a bullet to the head.
Frank had turned his head for just a few seconds. When he looked back, Dana was gone. She couldn’t have gone out the main exit as people were fighting to get through the rotating door. Windows smashed as bullets snapped through the air. Frank had taken cover, hoping to hold them off until backup arrived. The two men had disappeared around a corner. He wasn’t going to advance on them. He didn’t even have a bulletproof vest on. It would have been pure suicide.
Dana had rushed down the hallway. It wasn’t that she wanted to remain in the hotel. Everything inside of her was screaming to escape but one of the men was still following. Strangely though he wasn’t firing at her. She had dashed back into the stairwell and was making her way up the stairs when she ran into the other. They had split up.
The next thing she sensed was the rumble of a vehicle. She could hear sirens but that was it. Light and darkness flashed in front of her. She thought she must be in the trunk of a car, or the box of a truck. She was cramped. Her head pounded with pain.
It was happening again.
All her fears had come to pass. She swore if she ever got out of this she would leave Jack behind. She loved him, but this was no life for a mother with a sixteen-year-old boy.
Jason. His face flashed in her mind. All she could do was hope he was okay. Where were they taking her? Why did they want her? She struggled to figure out where she was.
Back at the hotel the police arrived on scene. It was chaotic but the gunfire had ended. For a while it was a tense situation. They had to call in SWAT as they had no way of knowing if the men were still in the building. Though Frank believed they were long gone by now. These were unlike anyone he had faced before. The look of resilience in their faces, they weren’t going to stop until they got what they came for. Dana Grant.
He waited patiently outside until one of the SWAT team came out.
He shook his head. “No sign of her, sir.”
“Okay.” Frank nodded.
He watched medics bring out Charlie’s body on a stretcher. He had worked with Charlie for over six years. He was a good man who didn’t deserve to die that way. He had a family and a young child. Frank knew he would have to be the one to break the news to them. Announcing a death to anyone was tough. But to his partner’s family. They would be utterly devastated.
One thing for sure, whoever did this would pay.
15
“Where the fuck is the money?” Spike yelled at Jack as he motioned for him to get inside. Jack used the first few seconds to count heads. In situations like this most would be overwhelmed. He couldn’t count the number of times he had faced a loaded gun, or been outnumbered. He’d learned to push down panic. Panic could get you killed. It made you freeze. You became a victim of your circumstances. That wasn’t him. He listened to what was being said, but his mind was thinking about the number of people in the room, distance, timing, weapons, and cover. He saw Jason and could tell he was scared. Beyond him were four other men, he could hear even more but they were out of sight.
“Are you listening? Where is the money?”
“It’s in the car.”
Spike pressed the gun against Jack’s head. One slip and it would be over.
“Why didn’t you bring it in?”
“And take the risk of losing your money?”
“Tyrone, Jamal, take this fool down to get the green.”
Two large guys came over. Both of them were dressed as if they had just stepped off the basketball court. Both were packing heat. There was no telling how fast either of them was.
“The boy,” Jack said.
“He stays here until you return,” Spike replied.
Jack nodded and was quickly shoved out into the hallway by both men. Every step he took as they descended to the ground floor he was thinking about disarming them. There was no clean way of doing this. He would have to take rapid action. He turned slightly and felt a shove.
“Eyes ahead,” one of them said behind him.
Casually, Jack reached a hand into his jacket twisted the gun around. Without even taking it out of the holster, he proceeded to fire off a round through the jacket. The bullet hit one man in the leg. He dropped. Without missing a beat, Jack spun around and was about to unload on the next guy but he was already on top of him. They fell backwards and toppled down a few remaining steps. Pain shot through his back as the hard edges slammed into his ribs. He was now wrestling with the gun and trying to prevent it going off. Two rounds fired, barely missing him. A third went off and it skimmed his shoulder, causing him to wince in pain. Finally, he turned it back on the guy and fired four rounds into his chest. He lay there for a moment to catch his breath before he ascended the steps. It was in moments like this that his mind became highly focused. Whether it was because adrenaline was pumping fast through his body or just out of habit, he would get tunnel vision.
A minute later he was back up the stairs. He plowed his foot into the door twice before it burst open and he came face to face with two men beyond the threshold. He had grabbed up one of the men’s handguns. That’s when he started firing. The key was to keep moving forward. He hit one of the men in the gut and the other in the knee. They screamed and slid around on the floor.
Jack rushed in, scooping up their weapons. One of them raised his hand and a bullet ripped through his fingers. He wasn’t concerned about killing them. They were in too much pain to be able to be of any further threat.
Five minutes later he was staring down at numerous dead bodies around him. The few who were still alive were writhing around on the floor in agony. Jason stared as if shock had set in. His face was pale.
“Let’s go.”
Jason had no reason to argue. They were out the door and were going down the stairs when they saw more men coming up. There had to have been at least ten of them. Their yelling echoed. He turned around and pushed Jason into a hallway full of doors. They had already come down five floors. They went along banging on doors in the hopes that someone would let them in. It wasn’t like they could go to the roof. The apartment block was not attached to any other buildings. No one would open the doors. Then Jack spotted a door cracked open. The man inside saw that Jack had spotted him and slammed it.
“Please let us in.”
“Go away, you’ll get us killed.”
As he was banging another door opened beside them.
“Quick. In here.”
An African American man let them inside. He slammed it closed. Jason bent over, gripping his knees, trying desperately to catch his breath.
“Thank you,” Jack said.
There was only one way out and that was down.
“I don’t know what you’ve done and I don’t want to know. As soon as the coast is clear you are to leave. You understand?”
Jack nodded.
16
Frank was getting reamed out by his boss for what had gone down. They had more casualties than they had anticipated. The two unknown men had not only killed Charlie, but taken out a security guard and three civilians.
Another officer came into the room just as the conversation between the two of them was starting to get heated.
He handed the boss a folder and then quickly exited. The blinds on the office door had been pulled to prevent prying eyes. Not that it was of much use as the yelling could probably have been heard two floors below.
Daniel Bomer had been Frank’s boss for more years than he could count. He was the kind of man that would move mountains if it meant catching his guy, but you didn’t want to get on the bad side of him. He’d brought grown men to tears in his office.
“Dominick Morello and Anthony Lombardo.” He tossed two photos that had been taken
from the hotel’s surveillance camera. You want to tell me why we have two of the Sicilian Mafia in our city?”
Frank handed back the photos.
“It has to be related to Jack Winchester.”
“Right. The guy you so happened to let go.”
“We didn’t have anything on him.”
“We had enough to keep him for twenty-four hours. That might have given us more. Now he’s gone, we have two potential kidnappings on our hands and two shooters on the loose. Do you know how this is going to look? The amount of crap I’m going to have to explain? Our phone lines are already tied up with the media hounding us at every turn.”
That was all he cared about. How this was going to look. How it might affect his reputation.
“We’ll find him.”
“You better.” He let out a long breath. “Have you spoken to Charlie’s family yet?”
Frank shook his head.
“Well, get on that. I don’t want them to hear about his death from the news.”
He took a swig of his coffee and gathered together the papers on his desk.
“And Jack Winchester?”
“What is the deal with you and him?
He rocked back in his chair tapping his pencil against the table.
“I knew him as a kid, that’s it.”
“Find him before these guys do.”
When Frank left the office he stopped by his desk to grab a bottle of headache tablets. He tossed two back and washed it down with a cone of water.
“Hey Banfield, see you fucked up another job.”
“Fuck you, Randall.”
There was always an air of competition in the department. Everyone was trying to one up each other and land a promotion. Frank didn’t want to get promoted. Hell, he would have been glad to be demoted. At least then he wouldn’t get his ear chewed out every other week.
It seemed like forever since he was an officer patrolling the streets and up to his neck in paperwork. He would hear many of the officers complaining. Saying how they wanted to get out of uniform, become a detective. If he knew the type of shit he had to deal with, they wouldn’t have even put in for the position.