Debt Collector - Reborn (Book 3 of a Jack Winchester Action Thriller) (Jack Winchester Vigilante Justice Thriller Series)
Page 15
Jack reached over to his bag. Outside he heard the sound of a steel bin hitting the ground. Instinctively he reached for his gun, expecting someone to show up. He didn’t know if he had been followed or not. He paused holding the gun at the smashed window for several minutes before laying it down. From inside his bag he retrieved the letter Eddie had left him. He read it again finding comfort in his words.
He wasn’t sure if he could do what Eddie had done, even if was justified. Getting paid to bring down bad men still seemed like blood money, even if his whole life had been full of it. It left a bad taste in his mouth.
And yet something in Eddie’s words rang true.
Gafino would have said we are killers. But that’s not true. Killing is easy. Anyone can do that. What determines who we are, is our choices. You have a choice, Jack. I know you are haunted by what you have done. The bloodshed. The lives you have taken. And maybe you wish you could reverse time. I wish I could. But what you can do is determine how you will finish. How? By helping others. Those who are tread upon by unscrupulous individuals.
He thought about what John Dalton had said about people wanting to change their life. He had a choice. He could turn his back, crawl into some hole in a small town, and live out his life in a quiet existence. Though he knew that wouldn’t last. He wasn’t made for backing down. Good or bad, he was formed to collect. Who he collected for, perhaps that was what would make him different now.
Shifting back and forth between people he had known, his thoughts came around to Malese again. Now that was a woman who had shown him the cost of giving.
“A bit of fragrance clings to the hand that gives flowers.”
He took another swig of his beer and ran his thumb over the barrel of his gun. The way the man had taken her life without even batting an eye. No remorse. He tapped the gun against his leg. Was it possible to stop all those who brought people illegally into the country? Maybe not, but he could put a permanent dent in the operation of one of the largest importers and at the same time help two kids who should have never found themselves burdened with the responsibility of debt at their age. What parent could send their child away to a foreign country; place them in the hands of someone as sick and depraved as Sheng Ping? Was it cultural? Or like the way some parents in the West forced their kids into abusive and harmful situations?
Jack breathed out hard, shifting the ice pack to his shoulder. The cold eased the bruising. His eyelids began to get heavy. They would close then open. The thought of someone returning rested heavily on his mind but he couldn’t stay awake any longer.
His final thoughts cycled through what he’d seen at the nightclub.
“Teddy Wu. Why the fuck were you there? I knew I should have killed you,” he muttered. Sick asshole was probably in the same business of smuggling in illegals.
It didn’t matter. At least tomorrow he knew who to visit.
And this time there’d be hell to pay.
Chapter 35
It had been the first day he didn’t have to attend court and deal with some asshole that wanted to fight a ticket. Officer Alex Riley had big plans for the day. He rose early that morning, beginning with his usual sixty-minute workout, shower, and green smoothie. A body like his didn’t just appear overnight.
He had to work his ass off to keep it in shape. As he rolled towards thirty-three, the days of tossing back beers and eating his way through a plate of wings and a bag of Doritos were long behind him. That shit just didn’t sit well.
He glanced over at the half-naked girl whose name he had forgotten. Since joining the department he had been through lines of women in L.A. Those that wanted anything serious, he never called back. He didn’t have time for the drama. He got enough of that on his shift. No, all he wanted was a decent fuck every night. Blonde, brunette, redhead, it didn’t matter to him.
When he didn’t have time to frequent bars, the massage parlors did the trick. It was a quick way to unwind, and get a release. As he sorted through his mail that morning he thought about what Deon had said. The guy was an asshole. Acting like his shit didn’t stink.
So what, he frequented Chinatown’s seedy underworld, accepted some extra cash to turn a blind eye. What cop wasn’t in bed with something illegal? The job didn’t pay enough to give him the lifestyle he wanted but he wasn’t ready to give it up.
Call it pride, whatever; he enjoyed getting out there and banging heads, and tossing the arrogant in cells. He glanced at his uniform, neatly pressed and hanging from the back of the door.
He didn’t know why he was bothered by what Deon had said. Sure he got in to change lives. But that was just a pipe dream. You couldn’t change people on the streets. People were who they were. Good, bad, everyone chose their path and no pep talk about getting your life on track helped.
In the early days he tried. The first few years cruising around the streets he was naïve. He gave people the benefit of the doubt. He used his discretion and let people go only to find them having stabbed someone later.
No, it was all bullshit.
He ran a hand around the side of his neck where a tweaker had slashed him. It served as a constant reminder not to go easy on anyone. No one got a free pass in this world. You either paid or got the fuck out of the way.
The only difference to be made was found in benefiting yourself and that’s exactly what he’d done. Over the past four years he’d carved himself out a nice little chunk of the pie. Most of it was going towards an early retirement.
He didn’t have plans to sit behind a desk at the department when he was sixty. Screw that. He wanted out in his mid-forties. Ten years. That would be enough to build up a nice nest egg.
In every drug bust, he and Brent took a little off the top.
He tilted his head from side to side to work out the kinks.
As for the parlors, who cared if they had illegal immigrants working there? It gave them a job, didn’t it? What the hell did Deon think he was going to do? Clean up the streets? Prevent them from getting in? As long as the money flowed like honey, the illegals would always show up.
So why not benefit from it?
He took a swig of his coffee as he pressed his pants with an iron. Today he was going to benefit. Not only had he worked out a sweet deal where he got massages free, but he got his hands on a little bit of coke from time to time, and a nice monthly envelope of cash for keeping Sheng in the know about busts.
He chuckled, remembering the look on Deon’s face when they burst into Sheng’s restaurant. Sheng was long gone, and he always would be. He couldn’t have his employer compromised.
Alex glanced at the small bag of coke on the counter. He took some out and gave a few blasts up his nose. It was just a little pick-me-up, something to get his day going, a way to handle the lows and the midday slump. He wasn’t addicted.
A quick glance up his nose in the mirror to make sure none of the powder’s residue was visible. All clear.
He slipped into his uniform, stood in front of a long mirror, and checked himself out. Yep, he still had it. Aging or not. He rocked this shit like a boss.
Grabbing up his bag, he closed the door on his apartment and left for the day feeling like a million bucks.
Jack had been up for the past hour watching the sun rise. Outside, a deep orange streaked the blue sky as a band of warm light bathed his face. It was going to be another blistering hot day. He’d managed to get enough shut-eye for what had to be done today. After checking his wounds, he puttered around the strangers’ apartment looking for coffee.
He wasn’t feeling a hundred percent but he’d operated under worse conditions.
Just get through this day, then move on, he told himself.
The thought of where he could go had played in his mind ever since leaving New York. The thought of heading down to New Orleans or Florida had been tempting. According to Gafino before he departed this world, his long-time ex Theresa had apparently taken a job down in the French Quarter at some stuck-up hotel.
“I’m fine for god’s sake, just get me checked out,” Isabel yelled at the doctor who was trying to convince her that she needed to stay put. But that wasn’t happening. She was so close to nailing that bastard. The thought that he could slip away while she was lying in bed bothered her greatly.
Isabel swung her legs out of her bed. Her bare skin touched the floor and she felt another shot of pain in her arm. They had extracted the bullet and patched it up but in reality she really should have given it more time, but time wasn’t something she had.
“She causing you trouble, doc?” Deon said coming in to the room. “She can tend to be a bit of a pain in the ass.”
She glared at him wondering why he was wasting time showing up at the hospital when Winchester and Sheng were still out there.
“Don’t you have better things to do with your time?” she said, waving the doctor off and asking to have her clothes brought to her.
“Not exactly a very patient woman, are you?”
She narrowed her eyes and he smirked.
“Why are you here?”
“I wanted to make sure you and Agent Cooper were okay.”
“No, I mean why aren’t you out there searching for the ones responsible?”
“We are. We haven’t stopped since last night but there’s not much that can be done at night. People come here to disappear. There’s a reason they select Skid Row. It’s easy to drop under the surface and go weeks, even months without anyone recognizing that you’ve been there longer than a day.”
She stumbled into the bathroom and closed the door.
“I highly doubt he’s pitched a tent on Skid Row. Have you checked hospitals? Sheng’s businesses? Airports, the bus station?”
The toilet flushed and she came back out hoping that he was gone.
“We are doing everything we can.”
“Have you heard if Cooper is okay?”
“You didn’t think to ask the doctor yourself?”
“No. I was too busy trying to convince him that I was fine to leave,” she spat.
“Can I get you some coffee? You look like you could do with some caffeine.”
She didn’t reply. Her clothes still hadn’t been returned. “Where the hell are they with my clothes?”
“With all the blood that was on them, they probably cut them up and tossed them. I can get someone to pick you up some if you like.”
She clenched her jaw, closed her eyes, and counted to ten.
“Anyway, Cooper’s a little worse for wear but he will survive. At least that’s what the doc said. But he has to stay in. He didn’t scrape through with a bullet wound to the arm like you.”
She balled her hands. “We had him right there, Deon. He was literally fifteen feet away.”
“Maybe it wasn’t the right time.”
What the hell did he mean by that? She tossed him a confused look. He must have registered it.
“You know how long I have been after Sheng Ping?”
She glanced at her watch.
“Six years. Now you would think that someone who conducts business in the same area I work, wouldn’t be hard to find. But he is so damn elusive that the very mention of his name has begun to make people think he is a myth. You know… some made-up guy, like the damn Wizard of Oz.” He paused. “You know he’s behind the curtain pulling all the strings but trying to get an audience with him, well that hasn’t happened. And no matter how hard we try to shut down his operations, they just continue. But here’s the thing. I’m going to get him. Dead or alive. I will bring him in. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Yeah, well, time isn’t something I have in abundance. If we don’t get him soon, he’ll disappear again.”
“Sheng?”
“No, Winchester. I couldn’t give a damn about Sheng.”
Chapter 36
Water dripped from Alex’s body after he stepped out of the shower at the Palm Tree Massage Parlor. It was routine. They wanted you spotless before they worked you over. He dried off and then left the towel on the ground. He didn’t bother with covering himself up. They knew the kind of massage he wanted.
He lay back on the plush, cushioned table while gentle Chinese music played in the background. On a side table were a few magazines. He’d asked for the girl he’d had the other day. She really knew how to put out. When the door opened he was surprised to see a younger girl. Behind her was the owner.
“Sorry but Li is no longer with us, but Evie here will service you, won’t you?”
She gave her a stern look as if she didn’t do a good job she was going to be punished.
The young girl nodded like an obedient subject.
The door closed behind her and the girl just stared at him. Her eyes drifted down his body and he could see she was scared. She wasn’t like the others he’d seen. They didn’t make him feel uncomfortable. But there was something about her that didn’t feel right. She wasn’t making him feel good, and damn, he came here to feel good.
Swinging his legs off the table he passed by her. She kept her eyes diverted from his junk that had been bobbing in anticipation but was now slowly and surely turning limp.
“Biyu. Don’t you have someone else?”
“Why is there a problem? Is she not doing what you ask?” she replied.
“I haven’t asked her to do anything. It’s just… she looks nervous. It’s making me nervous.”
Biyu was a wiry woman, five-two and with more fine lines on her face than there should have been for her age.
“Don’t worry. She will get the hang of it.”
She leaned in close. “You will be pleased. She is untouched.”
His eyebrows shot up and he cast a glance over his shoulder. Did she mean what he thought? Was she a virgin?
“How old is she?”
“Does it matter?”
Deon’s words came back to him, as did the guilt. Fuck that guy. This was meant to be a good day. Everything was planned. A massage and blow job in the morning, cruising around ticketing a few people, lunch with Stephanie around two, and then picking up a new bag of stash later in the evening. He wasn’t ready for this.
Reluctantly he went back into the room and lay back down. The girl stood off to one side unable to bring herself to get close to him. This was no fucking good. He flipped over and thought maybe if he turned away and didn’t look at her he could overlook how young she was. Perhaps it would make her feel more comfortable. He turned back.
“Well? Are you going to fucking stand there like a lemon or get rubbing?”
She was just walking over when he heard a gunshot go off.
“What the fuck?”
He slid off the bed and reached down to where his clothes were to pull his piece. Still butt-naked he eased the door open. He could hear a commotion outside but no one was in view.
Shit! This was all he fucking needed. If any other officer responded, he would be caught with his pants down — literally. No, screw that, he would just say he was responding. He closed the door, his eyes darted to the girl. Panic crept over him as the sound of fighting outside grew even more intense. More rounds went off. Chinese guys were shouting, and then he caught an American accent.
“Where is Zhang?”
Alex peeked out a second time and then he saw him. Standing in the hallway, a shotgun raised one way, a handgun the other, he fired two rounds blowing holes in Biyu’s men who usually kept watch over the girls.
It’s the same guy, the one that Deon was after. What the fuck was his name? Winters? Win…? Winchester. Jack Winchester. Holy shit. He could turn this around and come out on top. Nail the guy who both Sheng and Deon were after. Hell, this day could turn out okay after all.
He watched him slam another guy up against the wall and pound the shit out of him. Down o
n the ground he held a Desert Eagle to his head.
“Now let’s do this again. Where is Zhang Cho?” he shouted even louder.
Winchester’s back was turned to him. Sliding out of the room, still stark naked, Alex made his way down to him. Barefooted he slid up behind him as quiet as a cat.
“Police, put the fucking gun down,” Alex said as he pressed the end of the barrel of his Glock against the back of his head. Winchester moved his gun away from the man on the ground, then turned ever so slightly.
“Face forward,” Alex yelled.
“Okay. Okay. Just take it easy.”
Just as he was about to drop the gun on the floor, his body whirled around fast knocking Alex’s arm into the wall and jamming it there. The gun went off before he felt the brute force of a punch in the side of his knee, then another in his junk. Everything happened so fast. One second he had the gun on him, the next he was on the floor grasping his nuts, and staring up at his own weapon.
“Does the department pay you to fuck illegals?”
Behind Winchester he saw the Chinese man try to make a break for it. Not even taking his eyes off Alex, Jack wheeled the gun under his other arm and shot. Alex heard the thud.
“Zhang? How do you know him?”
Jack looked at the room Alex had come out of. Standing in the doorway was Evie.
“Who are you?” Winchester asked.
“Evie Cho. His sister.”
Winchester’s eyes fell on Alex.
“You sick fuck.”
He tossed his hands up. “I… I…” Alex didn’t even get a chance to get the words out before Winchester told him to get up and head into the room. He followed him inside and cast a glance at his uniform.