by Jon Mills
Carlos’ introduction to William had come about through catering to private parties that he used to hold in the small town of Nogales, Arizona, which was right on the border. Carlos remembered the party that changed it all for them. Back then, they would show up with cocaine and heroin, and make a few thousand dollars for their boss who smuggled it across the border.
“How would you boys like to earn ten times what you are getting with minimal risk?”
That was all William needed to say to pique their curiosity. He was a smart man and instead of telling them the whole scope of what was involved, he drip-fed it to them while having them do a few jobs. To make sure they knew he was not bullshitting he handed them ten thousand dollars each in the beginning.
“There’s more where that came from. A whole lot more.”
He must have thought they would balk at the idea of snatching a kid off the street but where they came from in Mexico it was common for adults and children to go missing. No one batted an eye and most down there would do it for a fraction of what William was offering.
That was how it began. Of course they rarely abducted kids themselves nowadays, they had their own guys who took care of that end of business. The risk was higher in the United States and they preferred to remain behind the scenes. There had been a few close calls, but so far no one had come knocking until that guy had shown up.
He only wished the guy had stayed conscious longer. He wanted to torture him more, and find out exactly who he was, but he hadn’t broken. Eventually they didn’t have time to mess around, as they had to get down to business. By now they would be fishing his bloated body out of a river, with veins full of heroin.
After dropping him off they had emptied the home and were planning on keeping the wrecker’s closed for a couple of weeks until they were sure that the guy hadn’t been a cop or fed. They had already taken steps to make sure the few remaining boys were locked up. No one was going to find them.
The door burst open.
“Carlos. You need to see this.”
Carlos pushed his chair back and told the others to not look at his cards. “You guys cheat, I’ll take your fingers.”
They all laughed as he strolled out with one of his men called Juan.
“What’s up?”
“See for yourself.”
He followed Juan into a small dirty room. One of his other men was in there staring at the color screens they had. It was all state-of-the-art equipment. They had cameras all over the place, even motion detectors that alerted them to the presence of anyone coming up the road. There were few reasons why anyone would come up. The wrecker’s yard was the only business operating on that road.
“We just assumed it was a customer or someone who was going to do a U-turn and drive off. But look.”
Juan hit a button that brought up one of the cameras, and Carlos’ eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost.
“Zoom in.”
The video showed him dashing in and out of the stacks of cars.
“Impossible. Miguel!” He shouted over his shoulder for his brother as he kept his eyes on the man that he had assumed was dead. “Miguel!” he shouted again even louder. Miguel came running in and he pointed at the screen.
“What the hell is that?”
He squinted and looked at the figure. “No, no, I got rid of him. I dumped him over myself.”
“Was he dead when you threw him in?”
“There’s no way he could have survived that. I gave him enough heroin to take down a horse.”
“Juan, Antonio. Send the dogs out.”
They shot out of the room and Carlos grabbed a hold of his brother by the ear. “You fucking idiot. Why do I always have to do these things myself?”
“I’m sorry, Carlos. I don’t understand.”
“I do. You fucked up,” he yelled in his face.
“I’ll handle it.”
“Get out there now and deal with this. I want him dead,” he shouted. Miguel rushed out of the room to grab a weapon. Carlos lit a cigarette and leaned forward on the table and watched intently.
Juan and Antonio appeared on the screen going over to the dog pen where they kept a Rottweiler, a Doberman pinscher and a pit bull. They unhooked them and headed out to track down their unwanted visitor.
The place was a fucking maze. Even though he had been there before, in the dead of night it looked very different. The dust and constant changing of his position had made it difficult to remember where the building was. He kind of figured by now they would have seen him coming. He didn’t have the element of surprise, which he usually relied upon.
As he continued ducking in and out of tight gaps between stacked vehicles his heart was pumping fast. Isabel was right. He had come close to dying. No matter what he had managed to survive in the past, it didn’t mean his luck wouldn’t eventually run out. They could have cut his throat there and then, and disposed of him in a vehicle but they didn’t. Why the river? It made him think that they wanted to send a message to whoever was breathing down their neck that if they continued to pry into their affairs they would experience the same or worse.
Jack crouched at the corner of a busted-up orange Camaro and peered around. He could hear voices nearby. Here we go.
He darted out across the kill zone and slipped around a crumpled truck until he was in between the next two stacks. He snuck a peek around the tail end and there was no one there. He moved and sprinted up towards where he’d heard voices, expecting them to come from the nearby building. He was only a few feet from the end of one stack when a Rottweiler came barreling around the corner and then stopped. Its lips peeled back, it snarled and then let out a hellish growl before taking off in his direction.
Oh shit! He didn’t even bother to fire a round as it would have only given away his exact location and right now that was the only thing he thought he might have working for him. He tucked the gun in the small of his back as he sprinted. If they were sending out dogs, they must have had him on surveillance. He bounced from one vehicle’s hood to the next and launched himself up to a second vehicle and then clambered over to the top of it. Meanwhile down below the dog was going fucking nuts barking, frothing at the mouth and jumping up and down. He kept on climbing up four more vehicles until he was able to reach the top.
As much as he liked dogs, if it came down to him or the dog, he wouldn’t spare a bullet. This was no pet that wanted to catch a ball. It was like fucking Cujo. It was trained to attack and nothing more. He hadn’t been on top of the stack of vehicles for long when a bullet ricocheted close by. He didn’t even have a second to see which direction it came from. He bolted across the top, running, and leaping from stack to stack. All the while the metal below him shifted ever so slightly each time his boots slammed against the roofs.
Jack slipped down between two stacks, and slid into a car. High up, hidden from view he used the seconds he was out of sight to his advantage by crawling his way through one car to the next. He had to have been nine cars high, even though they were partially crushed by the weight of the one above, there was more than enough room to work his way down the line.
As he came out and worked his way to the top, he stayed low and brought himself close to the edge. Down below he saw another dog take off in a different direction, while one of the men carrying an assault rifle peered around a corner. Jack reached behind and pulled the Walther, and took aim. A split second later, the guy dropped hard with a hole in the back of his head. Moving quickly he knew he wasn’t going to be able to make much progress by staying on top. The metal made too much noise, and yet he knew the instant his boots hit the ground those dogs were going to be on him like a piece of sirloin steak.
It was a toss-up and one that he wouldn’t have the luxury of choosing. Gunfire erupted in rapid succession all around him. He didn’t even dare look over as they continued to pummel the car from the ground. The very second it stopped, he was up and dived over to the next car and slipped over the side. He dropped down thre
e cars and landed hard on a hood, crumpling it beneath him. He heaved as he tried to catch his breath only to find himself topple and plummet to the ground. The second he hit the dirt he saw the pit bull rushing towards him. “Sorry, my friend,” he said before firing two rounds. The dog let out a yelp and collapsed. It felt like he’d busted a rib, as breathing was difficult as he hauled himself to his feet and staggered on.
Further down two more men came into view. The same ones that had been on the other side were shouldering rifles and just waiting to unleash a flurry of rounds his way. He squeezed into a small gap with no time to climb or run. He gripped his throbbing rib cage. C’mon, he thought as he waited for them to come into view.
The very second he caught sight of one of them he unloaded multiple rounds, taking both of them out. As he had stepped out, he hadn’t seen the Doberman launch itself at him. The beast clamped down on his forearm with so much force that when he pulled back the dog lifted off the ground. Jack let out an agonizing yell, reached back with his other arm and grabbed the SR22 out and put the mutt out of its misery.
The only consolation he had was that the dogs were probably better off dead than living out some meager existence as security for those assholes.
If they couldn’t treat a child right, how much worse did they treat an animal?
His arm was throbbing, and though he had a thick jacket on, the teeth had pierced his skin and caused damage. How bad it was, was anyone’s guess and there was no time to stop and take a look. Jack took off running as bullets snapped over his head.
“Fuck, enough!” he stammered as he pushed through a gap in a stack and dashed across the ground to another steel wall with a Rottweiler on his heels. This time he just turned and unloaded several shots. It went down hard and he crouched on the ground waiting for the guy who was shooting at him to come into view.
As he appeared, Jack fired four rounds and took him to the ground, then from behind him he heard metal screeching and crashing. The noise was deafening. He turned and darted out from below a collapsing stack of steel. Sweat poured off him now, his heart hammered against his chest and his arm felt like it was on fire.
Through the rubble, grit and dust, high up inside the cab of a yellow Bobcat heavy machine, he could make out the same guy he’d originally chased into the wrecker’s yard on the night shit went south.
“You little bastard.”
The guy hopped out of the door and started scooting his way down the metal ladder. Unable to squeeze through, Jack hurried around the stacks in the hopes of being able to kill him before he reached the ground.
By the time he came around, he’d vanished.
As he held his handgun out in front of him, his eyes drifted from side to side waiting for him to come out. It was the sound of boots pounding the ground away from him that made him swivel and take off. He saw him dart inside the building leaving a metal door swinging wide open.
Jack unloaded the magazine and banged another one in. He placed it in the small of his back and pulled the twelve-gauge off his back, double-timed it into to the entrance and prepared for the worst.
Isabel spotted the rental first, then the locked gate. Cooper had been texting her non-stop since she had hung up on him. She refused to answer because it would have just put her in a position of where she would have had to explain. It was easier to ignore him and just notch it all up later to a failed battery, or a loss of connection. She pulled up alongside the car and pushed her way out. As she moved fast, clambering up and over the fence brought back memories of being in the academy. Once on the ground she pulled her piece and moved quickly down the first line of stacks.
The moment she saw two dead guys and heard no gunfire she began to worry.
Why did she put herself in this situation, she thought as she hurried to the far end and came around the corner. A dead dog lay a few feet away. She cast her eyes away and moved on. She had a feeling that no amount of trying to talk him out of putting behind this part of his life was going to work but there was no way she was going to bring him back in. That wasn’t an option anymore. The second she let him go, she knew there was no going back.
The sound of gunfire caused her to freeze and assess her surroundings. Again, and she headed in the direction it was coming from.
She could only hope that he was still alive.
Winchester pressed his back against the wall. In the dimly lit building that smelled of grease he had had two close calls. The second shot wasn’t directed at him but at a light, which had made it even darker inside. No amount of trying to walk quietly was working as the ground was made of steel grates. He pressed on, keeping the twelve-gauge waist high.
“Carlos!”
A voice echoed through the halls. Jack broke into a light jog and made his way down a winding corridor full of pipes and steam. It was hot inside, and it smelled like a factory that melted down metal.
Another shot was fired and this time he returned two of his own. Golden sparks flew in the air and a round struck one of the pipes causing steam to flood out. It hissed, and clouded up the air.
He crouched below it and came out into a central area that fissured off into three corridors. He picked the one on the left and was a few feet down when the guy came out of nowhere and knocked the shotgun out of his hand, and kicked him back. Jack fell backward and then took stock of his surroundings. He’d vanished again. This guy was starting to piss him off. He saw the shotgun a few feet away. As he went to get it, the guy came out of the shadows wielding an oversized wrench. He brought it down and Jack blocked the blow by thrusting his forearm against the man’s wrist, then following through with a front kick. The long-haired man began to circle around him.
Jack went to reach for his second handgun in the small of his back but it was gone. It must have fallen out.
“Where are the kids?”
A smug grin formed on the man’s face as he readied himself like a wrestler looking to take him down.
He feigned a few jabs, and then rushed him.
Jack launched himself upwards with his knee and the man fell back against a steaming hot pipe. He sneered, and ground his teeth as he came back for more.
They both locked onto each other and began to scuffle.
As they hit the ground, the fight turned into a struggle for control. One moment the guy was trying to choke him out, and the next Jack managed to reach between his legs and apply so much pressure to his nuts that he released his hold. His screams reverberated.
Rising to his feet he followed through with a left and a right hook, and one hell of a strike to his jaw. Off to the right was a large thick chain that hung between two of the pipes. Jack went over while the man was still writhing around on the ground and pulled it off. He twisted it quickly around the man’s neck and then took the other end and looped it over a thick pipe above them. Using his entire weight, he pulled down on the chain and the man shot upwards. The man screamed out the name Carlos. Jack paid no attention; it was taking everything he had to hold him up. Miguel croaked, and went red in the face.
Chapter 22
Jack had to use every ounce of his strength to keep the asshole’s feet off the ground. The man’s body flailed like someone drowning in water. Any second now he would be dead. He pulled even harder in the hope of speeding it up, and perhaps he might have died if it hadn’t been for a pulverizing kick Jack received to his kidney. It was sudden and overwhelming. Stumbling forward, he released the chain.
“Miguel,” the man hollered and rushed over to remove the chain from around his neck. Whether Miguel was dead or just unconscious, Jack wasn’t sure, but the look Carlos gave him as he rose up made it clear that his fight was not over.
Jack hauled himself up. Pain shot through him as he turned. He winced, feeling his kidney cry out. As Carlos stepped forward towards Jack, his eyes shifted to the ground. A few feet away was Jack’s shotgun.
“I don’t know how the fuck you managed to survive but you are going to wish you had died.”
/> “You know how many times I’ve heard shit like that?” Jack replied. “You guys really need to come up with better lines.”
From the front of his jeans, Carlos pulled out a Glock. For a split second, Jack thought his number was up until he watched him release the magazine, letting it fall to the floor, and then tossed the gun to one side.
Idiot!
Jack scoffed, they were all the same. They wanted to toy with him, instead of end it with a bullet. When would these assholes learn? It was a common mistake by newbies, more so by those that were young and dumb. He’d been the same way when he was in his twenties. He would have rather beat a man to death than end it fast as he was driven by rage and ego. He had the same look in his eye this man did. He recognized it and he would punish him for it.
“Who are you?” Carlos said in a demanding tone.
“Does it matter now?”
Below him Miguel started to come around. He groaned and then began coughing hard and leaned to one side to throw up.
“Where are the boys?”
He scoffed. “Does it matter now?” Tossing Jack’s words back at him.
Jack was done with these assholes. “Come on.” He motioned Carlos towards him. Carlos rushed forward with his head down low and Jack shifted sharply and elbowed him in the side of his temple. He moved around him as Carlos got back up off the ground and let out a yell of anger. He unleashed a series of blows one after the other but Jack held his ground ducking and weaving around and below each one. The few that struck barely registered. Jack darted to the side and kicked his knee, then brought a right hook, followed by a jab to the gut.
Carlos hit the ground again, panting hard.
“You see, cowards like you need to inflict pain on the young because you can’t hold your own unless they are tied down.”
“Fuck you.” He jumped up and raced at Jack’s waist, plowing him back against a water pipe. Jack rained down multiple elbows on his back as Carlos tried to take him off balance. Jack gripped his shirt and tossed him away like a rag doll, then ran at him and went to kick him in the head with all the force he could muster, but Carlos shifted and swiped out the other. Before he could recover, Carlos was on him, unleashing one jab after another to his face. As Jack tried to buck him off, he found himself trapped by his weight, so instead he pulled Carlos down towards him. Not only did it prevent him from being able to swing punches but it allowed Jack to sink his teeth into his ear. Carlos’ scream echoed as he tore away and in the process pulled away what remained of his ear. A large chunk of bloodied flesh hung loosely from the side of his face as he reeled back in pain. Jack rolled onto his front and moved towards the shotgun. He was ending this now.