Hard Tide: A Sea Adventure (Florida Coast Adventures)

by Johnny Asa

  I pulled out my cellphone and hit Ren’s number. It rang twice before he picked up.

  “I don’t have anything yet,” Ren said by way of hello.

  “I have a first name and an address for you,” I said, giving him the information on Jimmy I’d gotten from Elliott. “Anything about him in there.”

  “Let me check,” Ren said, and he got quiet for a second. “Yeah, oh… that guy’s bad. He’s a fixer. You know the type, right?”

  “That’s who they said had my dad.” I took a deep breath, trying to staunch the worry in my gut.

  “Maybe they’re lying?” Ren replied, strain in his voice. “Look, the address they gave me is legit. I’d start there, but the dude’s a ghost. Not a Scorpion, but a hired merc. He’ll fade to nothing if you don’t get him now.”

  “Gotcha,” I said as Mary Ann pulled up next to me. I nodded at her as I hung up the phone and got in.

  “Get anything?” she asked as I stripped off the UPD shirt and tossed it in the backseat, leaving me sitting there in my undershirt. I reached under the seat and pulled out a dusk gray T-shirt and pulled it on.

  “I got this. Leads to a fixer named Jimmy.” I slid the sheet of paper Elliott had given me with Jimmy’s address on it to Mary Ann. She looked at it for a second and nodded.

  “That’s not exactly a safe part of town,” she said as she guided the car into traffic and away from the cluster I’d created a few blocks away.

  “Don’t have much of a choice. Word is he knows about my dad. ‘Sides, I haven’t got any other leads.”

  “I see what you’re doing,” Mary Ann said, her grip tightening around the steering wheel until her knuckles went white. “Now, rest a moment. We’ll be there soon.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I whispered before my eyes shut of their own accord.

  What felt like seconds later, we pulled up in front of a Terrific Tom’s Pizza and Waffles. I glanced at her, confused as I tried to blink away my impromptu nap.

  “We’re here,” she said, parking the car.

  “I can see that.” I gestured at the building. “But why are we here?”

  “This is where you told me to come.” She pointed at the note, and I realized she was right. The address I’d been given belonged to the pizza place. That seemed crazy, and I’d have thought Elliott had played me, but Ren had corroborated the address.

  “Great,” I mumbled as I checked my surroundings. There weren’t many other cars in the lot even for the other businesses, a pawn shop and a laundromat. “This is going to be fun.”

  “Be careful,” Mary Ann said, and as she leaned toward the passenger seat to wave me good luck, a pang of fear washed down my throat. I couldn’t let her stay here in the open, nor get out where they might see us together.

  “Drive away,” I said, meeting her eyes. “I’ll call when I need you.” As her face screwed up in annoyance, I continued. “Seriously. You’re like the only car here, and for all I know, cameras are watching us right now. Get out of here, fast.”

  “Okay,” she said, putting the car back into gear and taking off, racing out of the parking lot and merging into the nearly non-existent traffic. I could see concern etched across her face as she wove into the left lane and threw on her blinker.

  We drove about half a block farther in silence. Thankfully, I spotted a gas station and spoke up before the silence could become all-consuming.

  “Let me out here. Pull in like you’re gonna go get gas. I’ll go inside, and you leave me.”

  She nodded and drove into the station. A battered Pete’s Gas with the last number missing on the diesel price. She pulled to a stop in front of pump number four and put the car into park.

  “Guess this is it. Be careful, okay?” she said, and before I could reply, she got out to pump gas.

  “I will,” I mumbled, getting out myself. I nodded to her and made like I was going inside to pay.

  Once inside, I took a moment to steady myself. I had exactly zero plan here, and that was bad. The only reason I’d been able to take out Elliott was because of the plan the three of us had hatched at the diner.

  This? This felt insane, and worse, the longer we waited, the more likely Jimmy would vanish. No. I had to do this now and hope for the best. And God how I hated hoping for the best…

  When I got back outside, the Florida humidity hit me like a sloppy kiss. I ignored it and watched Mary Ann pull her car back into the street, leaving me behind. As she merged back into traffic, I let out a little breath of relief. One of us might survive this.

  20

  The red façade of Terrific Tom’s surprised me as I approached. I hadn’t noticed it before, but the lights that lit up the letters in the name were out, and the windows had that dusty, never been washed look. The sign on the door read closed for renovations, but judging by the inch of grime settled around said sign, this place had never opened. I took a quick glance around the lot and sighed.

  Terrific Tom’s reminded me of an old Thai food restaurant I’d seen back in Ventura. I’d never ever seen anyone eat there, and the one time I’d ventured inside, I’d been informed by a tank-top wearing Asian covered in tattoos that the place was closed despite it being 12 PM on a Saturday.

  I’d later learned the place was a front for laundering money by some gang with a name I couldn’t pronounce. Or at least, that’s what the local news had told me.

  Terrific Tom’s gave off the same vibe, and as I crossed the pavement in front of it to look around, I wondered if anyone was even here. I mean, there were only a couple scattered vehicles in the lot, and most of them seemed to be in front of the Pawn Pros pawnshop.

  Still, I was here, might as well check it out. I began walking, intending to circle the building, but as I passed by the glass double doors, I caught sight of a shadow inside. I turned toward it just in time for a bullet to pass by my ear. Glass shattered inward into the building as I dropped to my belly and rolled. Another bullet ricocheted off the cement beside me as I came up on my feet, drawing my Glock and looking for a target. Off by the street, a beat up golden Ford Fiesta tore ass away down the street.

  Had that been another hitter? Worse, how did they know I was here?

  I wasn’t sure, but before I could reach into my pocket to warn Mary Ann about the attack, Terrific Tom’s came alive like a kicked anthill. Two bare-chested thugs with meth-ruined teeth appeared in the broken window and raised submachine guns in my general direction. Their bullets cut an erratic line through the broken window in front of me before spitting off into the distance while I threw myself to the side and fired.

  Four quick shots took the two guys down because, evidently, they didn’t know about cover. Before their friends who had smartly dropped out of sight could fire at me, I sprinted toward the corner of the building.

  The side of the building held no windows or doors, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Adrenaline surged through my veins, and as panic swam into my gut, I pushed it down because I had no need of it now. Instead, I focused on the gun in my hand as the sound of the front doors opening filled my ears.

  Boot steps crunching on broken glass.

  The odd squeak of a heel on cement.

  The sudden stop as someone approached the corner.

  I crouched down low and waited. The thug came around, shotgun raised to blow me away if I’d been standing. Because I was low, his shot passed over my head. I dropped him with two quick shots to the chest. He fell backward in a spray of blood as I whirled in time to see two more guys coming around the backside of the building.

  Another set of shots dropped them, and as I stood there, chest heaving, I wondered who had trained these guys. They might be tough, but they were thug tough, not ex-military tough. These were little more than skinhead punks who thought holding a piece made them tough. They weren’t. Not by my standards.

  I sprinted toward the back end of the building. As I approached the two men I’d shot, I did a quick sweep of the back alley. There was no one there, so I quickly ho
lstered my own Glock and grabbed the SMGs the two had been holding. The damned things didn’t even have stocks. No wonder they had been so inaccurate.

  Still, they’d make a lot of noise and could cause a lot of damage in enclosed spaces, which if I had to guess, Terrific Tom’s was full of. I moved toward the back doors, still half open from when the pair had come out and let loose a blast of gunfire. Bullets cut an upward arc through the cheap metal and the wall to the left. I moved forward, dropping the left gun to hang on my shoulder by its strap as I grabbed the edge of the door.

  I maneuvered to the side and pulled it open and toward me while staying next to the wall so I wouldn’t get perforated. To my surprise, no gunfire followed the door as it opened, and I stood there in silence, my ears ringing.

  I slowly crept out from behind the door and grabbed my cell phone, switched it to camera mode and crouched down. Then I held it out, allowing the camera to show me the inside without having to poke my head around the edge. No one appeared in the screen. Hell, I could see all the way to a counter a few meters away, and there was no trace of anyone.

  A breath of relief escaped me as I pocketed my phone, hoisted both SMGs and moved into the threshold, crouched down low.

  I took a few quick steps forward. As I reached the counter, I realized I was in the kitchen. There were no utensils or pots and pans, but it was a kitchen nonetheless.

  Interesting.

  I glanced down a hallway to the left, surmising it led back to the main area. I could hear men shuffling around that way, but they were probably trying to figure out where I’d gone, but at the same time, they had to know because I had been letting off blasts from the stolen SMGs. Maybe they thought it was their friends.

  Either way, I had to be quick. It was hard because the only light in the room came from a dusty skylight overhead. No electric lights had been turned on inside the place.

  After a few more seconds of searching, I realized the only way out was through the hallway and toward the gunmen. Maybe that’s why they hadn’t come?

  I moved slowly down it, and as I did, I heard the nervous movements of untrained men. Still, I was hoping to avoid them if I could. Untrained or not, a bullet will kill you dead the same either way.

  As I headed toward a big pair of arches dug into the left wall that led into the main room, I spied another door just before it with the words “Staff Only” written across it in black lettering. At the end of the hallway were two more doors with restroom placards.

  Easy choice.

  I pulled up short of the archway and grabbed the handle of the staff door. It was locked. I could blow it open, but that would alert the thugs in the other room. That left one last place to go.

  Crouching down once more, I edged toward the arches and peeked out. There were four thugs. Three with shotguns and one with a pistol. None of them were looking back here, at least not yet. I sighted the SMGs on the thugs and let loose.

  It was over before I finished exhaling. The four bodies hit the ground in a spray of blood and bone, and as they lay there, fluid leaking out of them, I realized they’d brought the bodies of their dead comrades inside.

  “So that’s what you guys did instead of coming to find me,” I muttered. They’d wanted to hide the bodies. Guess it didn’t matter much. I was gonna take them down piece by piece until I found my dad, no matter what.

  Satisfied there were no more thugs in the vicinity, I whirled and kicked the staff door as hard as I could. The lock broke through the jamb as the door swung inward and smacked against the wall. The room inside was empty. How could that be?

  Jimmy was supposed to be here, dammit.

  I turned, and as I did, a shotgun blast nearly took my goddamned head off. It cleaved through the drywall to the left of my head as I fired the SMGs at my unseen opponent.

  Bullets ripped through the wall as the two guns ran empty. That’s when I saw a glint by the counter in the kitchen. Someone was smart and using cover, and worse, I had none.

  I dove into the room, dropping the spent SMGs as another shotgun blast came down the hallway. As I landed hard on my side and pain shot up my elbow, I pulled my Glock and counted to three.

  “You’re dead! You hear me?” a shrill, angry voice cried from the hallway beyond.

  “Look, buddy. I’m looking for Jimmy,” I called back, creeping toward the doorway and trying to decide how best to take him without getting shot. “Tell me where he is, and I won’t kill you. Look around. I’m a lot better at it than you.”

  “Jimmy’s not here, man! He left for a meeting,” the thug said, his voice cracking. “You’ll pay for this!” I heard footsteps retreating. Was he running?

  I peeked out and saw nothing, so I moved forward. As I reached the kitchen, I heard the back door slam shut.

  Damn.

  I got to my feet and raced outside after him. The sunlight was practically blinding after being inside, but I ignored it as I scanned the horizon for the perp.

  “Where did you go?” I asked aloud as I stepped into the parking lot, looking for him. Had he escaped into the pawnshop?

  The rest of my thoughts were cut off as a car slammed into me from behind, taking my legs out from under me and throwing me to the pavement. My world went blurry as I slammed into the hard ground and lay there trying to remember how to breathe.

  Before I could do even that, arms grabbed my arms and legs and hauled me into the air. My body was slammed down on the hood of the black Dodge SUV.

  While I was held there, my brain still rattling around in my skull, a guy wearing a wife beater and a black leather jacket with a silver scorpion emblazoned across it moved toward me. His left hand held one of those butterfly knives, and as he flipped it around, bringing the glinting blade into the air, my breath caught in my throat. I struggled, trying to throw the arms holding me off, but it was no use.

  “You thought you were so smart, didn’t you. Well, old Troy’s got a few tricks up his sleeve. Go ahead and struggle, you’ve got lots of people to pay for,” the Scorpion said as the men holding me spread my legs. “You’ve got balls, and I like that.” His face curled into a devious smirk. “I think I’ll have to do something about that.” He smashed the hood between my legs with one hand. “Now hold still. This is gonna hurt you a lot more than it hurts me.”

  As he raised the knife to cut off my junk, police sirens cut through the air. The guy’s knife disappeared in a flash, and he stepped back, rage filling his features as a brown sedan rolled up.

  A black guy with one of those bulldog faces leaned out the window and gave the group of us a once over. As it happened, the four guys holding me down let up, hauling me to my feet and dusting me off.

  “Is there a problem here?” the black guy asked in a syrupy sweet drawl, his badge glinting in the light as his partner, a white guy with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes, watched from the passenger seat. “Because I’d hate if there was a problem, Troy.”

  “No problem,” Troy said, gesturing at me. “Buddy just fell, and we were helping him up.”

  “You’re full of crap,” the cop deadpanned as the siren cut off. “Now get out of here.” He made a shooing gesture with his hands. “Otherwise I might want to talk to you.”

  Troy glared at the cop before biting his lip and nodding. “Suit yourself, officer.” Then he, along with the rest of the Scorpions, piled into their SUV, started it with a roar of engines, and took off down the alley.

  The cop watched them go before turning his dour eyes on me. “You need to get in the car now.” He gestured to the backseat.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, rubbing my neck as I tried to ignore the pain coursing through my body. I really didn’t have time for this, but what else was I supposed to do? Run from the cops?

  “Look, you’re Bob Ryder’s kid. We know he’s missing and that you just showed up.” He nodded toward the Terrific Tom’s. “Doesn’t take a genius to see what you’re up to.” My heart started to pound, and I took half a step backward, only as I did, the
guy’s partner clapped his hand on the handle of his door, while waving his other one.

  “He’s gonna run, Cam.” As he spoke, I readied myself to do just that. If I got arrested, there’d be no one to save my dad.

  “Don’t run,” the Cam said, shaking his head. “If you do, we’ll have to chase you, except I’m old and hate running, so I’ll just put a bullet in your leg.” He shifted so I could see his Dirty Harry revolver. “Then there will be paperwork, and I do not want that.”

  “Yeah, we really hate paperwork,” his partner agreed.

  “What do you want?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the cop.

  “What we said earlier, Billy,” the partner in the passenger seat said. “To talk.” He jerked a thumb toward the back of the sedan. “So get in.”

  I nodded. “If this is where you drive me to the middle of nowhere to kill me, you’re going to have another thing coming,” I said as I got into the car. It was surprisingly clean and didn’t smell like coffee or cigarettes. Instead, the smell of carwash pine trees filled the air.

  “Buddy, if we wanted you dead, we wouldn’t have interrupted Troy and his boys. They’re a bunch of screw-ups, but they’d get the job done well enough.” Cam’s eyes fixed me in the rearview mirror. “No. What you’ve done is make a three-year investigation go sideways.”

  21

  As we pulled into a parking garage several blocks away, I still wasn’t quite sure if they were going to try and kill me or not. The entire ride had passed with them making inane small talk with each other about pool while completely ignoring my questions. Worse, I’d managed to lose my Glock when Troy had jumped me. If it came down to a fight, I was outmatched.

  The one time they had spoken to me had been to tell me to wait. Still, they hadn’t taken my phone, and I’d let Mary Ann know what was going on. She knew the parking structure and would be here in no time.