by David Archer
“Hey,” Becky said, “it’s just Becky, okay? If you don’t mind?”
Sam grinned at her. “With Becky, I mean.”
Pat glanced at Becky, then turned back to Sam. “Right place, right time. She stopped at a cafe where my daughter works yesterday and mentioned she was trying to get to Denver. I had to come over this morning anyway, so my daughter called me and said she had this really cute girl who needed a ride, and how would I feel about having some company on the way over? I went down and met her, and she seemed to be sort of all alone in the world, so I offered her the use of my guest room and we got up early this morning and made the drive. Pretty simple.”
Sam looked into his eyes for a moment longer. “She said she told you everything. How did that come about?”
Pat shrugged. “Once you’re a cop, you’re always a cop. I knew there was something going on with her, that she was running from something, the minute we met. I didn’t press it, because I could tell she wasn't dangerous, but then on the way over here this morning, a couple of state boys asked a gas station clerk if he had seen a girl in a picture they were holding. My gut said it was Becky they were asking about, but they said she was wanted for questioning by the FBI about her husband’s murder. That didn’t sound right to me, ’cause the FBI doesn’t normally investigate homicides unless it’s on federal property or the vic is a federal employee. I had my doubts about it all, so I asked her, and she told me the whole thing. She also told me that the reason she was coming to Denver was to come clean to you guys about what happened. I decided to make sure she got the chance.”
Sam nodded. “You’re retired?”
“Yeah. Uncle Sam didn’t give me a choice after that last IED. Got enough shrapnel in me to set off metal detectors at airports.”
“So, you and Becky didn’t know one another before yesterday? The reason I ask is that she hasn’t let go of your hand since we got you both inside here.”
Becky suddenly laughed. “That’s because this man has made me feel more alive and willing to fight to stay that way than anything else has in years,” she said. “Mr. Prichard, I’m sure you know enough about me to understand what I’m about to say. Pat knows everything about me and how I ended up with Mac and got into this mess, and he still wants to be close to me. Can you imagine what that means to someone like me?”
Sam smiled. “I can remember a couple years back being amazed at my wife, for similar reasons. Heck, I still don’t know what she sees in me, but as long as she’s happy with it, I don’t ask. Okay, then, we’re going to go on the assumption that Mr. Gordon is an ally. Here’s what we have to offer: I want everything you can tell us about the CerebroLink chip theft, and any corroborating evidence you can provide or lead us to. In return, we’ll make sure you and Mr. Gordon are safe, and we’ll arrange for you to be granted immunity for your involvement. Is that acceptable?”
Becky looked at Pat, who was smiling, and then turned back to Sam. “Yes,” she said. “That’s perfect. Did anyone grab my bag out of Pat’s truck a while ago?”
Ron spoke up. “They did,” he said. “We looked through it and found a pistol. We’ve confiscated that for the moment, but I’ll have the rest brought in.” He got up and left the room for a moment, then came back with her bag and handed it to her.
“I don’t care about that gun,” Becky said. “It wasn't mine, anyway. There’s a lawyer mixed up in all this, and I took that away from him because I didn’t trust him. His name is...”
“Jonathan Landry,” Sam said. “Becky, Mr. Landry was murdered this morning, probably by the same people who are looking for you.”
She froze and stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m not gonna cry over him,” she said. “There’s not a doubt in my mind he was going to hand me over to be killed if he had gotten this stuff from me.” She pulled out a plastic pouch and dumped its contents on the table. The debit cards and bank documents were there, along with the ID and passports Williamson had been given. “There it is. One hundred million dollars, if you can figure out the passwords. Mac made it sound so easy, but I wish to God I’d never even heard about it.”
“The money is not important,” Sam said. “The documents, though, may provide clues to who the money originated from. Do you have any information about that? About who actually bought the chip?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. The only thing Mac ever said to me about them was that they were cowards. I don’t know why he thought so, but he complained that they were yellow bastards who wouldn’t pay him what the deal was worth. He said they were tossing a hundred million out with the trash, but all they were paying him was fifty thousand.”
Sam and Ron looked at one another, and Ron started laughing. “Well,” he said, “that at least partly confirms the triad involvement.”
Becky looked confused. “Triad? What does that mean?”
Sam chuckled at her. “We don’t think he was saying they were cowards, Becky. See, we know that the deal came from one of the triads in San Francisco’s Chinatown. Mac was telling you they were Chinese.”
Pat narrowed his eyes. “I learned about triads in Afghanistan,” he said. “They’re deeply involved in the heroin trade from there to the U.S. and everywhere else, and they’re nobody to get on the bad side of. If they’re after Becky, they’re not gonna stop till they get her or we get them.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose. “We?”
Pat locked eyes with him. “You don’t think you’re getting rid of me now, do you? This little lady promised me a date when all this is over, and I’m not about to let her get out of that promise.”
Ron tapped Sam on the arm and leaned over to whisper into his ear. “Sam, he’s got experience we could probably use, his record is clean, and he can handle a weapon. It's your call, but I’ll okay it if you want to hire him on as a contractor.”
Sam nodded, then turned back to Pat. “If you plan to stick around,” he said, “then how about we put you to work?”
“I’m game,” Pat said. “What have you got in mind?”
“I’ll take you on as a consultant on triads. We’ve got rooms for you upstairs where the two of you can stay for now, and we can find you a desk to work from. All I need is to be able to tap what you know about triads, but it may very well help us get this case closed up. What do you say?”
Pat grinned. “Sam, I've been reading your blog for about a year or so,” he said. “If anyone had ever told me I’d get a chance to work with you, I’d have said they were nuts. Hell, yeah, man, I’m in!”
Sam grimaced. “It’s my wife’s blog,” he said. “Not mine.”
*
The plate glass windows exploded as dozens of bullets came through them. The patrons in the bar screamed and instinctively tried to run out the door, which only put some of them in the line of fire. Five of them went down in less than two seconds, while others finally realized what was happening and began trying to take cover.
Jade looked at Summer, who was laying on the floor with a blood stain spreading across her sweater. The laser had been right over her heart, but she couldn't believe her friend was gone. She reached over and touched Summer’s shoulder, and the blue eyes flew open.
“Geez, that was close,” Summer said. Her eyes swung around for a moment and found Jade. “Are you hit?”
Jade’s eyes were wide open. “Me?” she hissed. “You’re the one who’s bleeding!”
Summer looked down at herself and lifted part of her sweater to look down inside. “A graze, I think,” she said with a groan, “but I’m gonna need a new bra. I’ll live. Where’s Pete?”
“He crawled up under the bar,” Jade said. “He’s safe for the moment. How are we getting out of here?”
Summer pulled her purse over to her by its strap and reached inside, withdrawing a Glock G26 9mm pistol. She held it up for Jade to see and noticed that Jade already had her Kimber .45 out and ready.
“Are you crazy?” Pete hissed at them from a hole under the bar. “Y
ou can’t shoot your way out of this! Fei’s probably got a dozen men outside, waiting for you to show. Follow me, I know how to get out through the cellar.” He turned and started crawling along behind the bar, and Summer glanced at Jade for only a second before following. When she got through the hole and could see Pete ahead, she heard Jade cursing as she came along behind.
True to his word, Pete led them into the kitchen, which was deserted, and then immediately got to his feet and opened a door that led down the stairs and into the cellar of the building. With her gun ready, Summer followed him down, leaving Jade to bring up the rear.
There was minimal light in the cellar, but Pete didn’t waste any time. He cut through a couple of rooms and went to a boarded-up doorway, then started pulling the boards off. A couple of them seemed to be difficult, so Summer tucked her gun into her waistband and helped, and a moment later the door creaked open.
A foul odor came out of the opening. “God, what is that?” Jade asked, covering her nose with her free hand.
“Old sewer tunnels,” Pete said. “You want to live, or would you prefer to smell nice in your coffin? Come on, it’s the only way out that’s not gonna lead into a death trap.” He plunged through, and with looks of resignation on both their faces, Jade and Summer followed.
It was extremely dark in the sewage tunnel, so Summer took out her phone and lit up its screen. She checked for a signal and saw that there was none, but the light didn’t do much to let her see her surroundings.
“You gotta follow the wall,” Pete said in a loud whisper. “It gets pitch dark in spots. Just follow the wall and stay to your left, and that leads to the way out. And be quiet, just in case someone decides to see if we came this way. They probably won’t, because—well, they just probably won’t.”
Jade looked at him. “Why not?” she asked nervously.
Pete grinned, but it seemed to lack anything resembling humor. “Well—most people are afraid of the gators.”
Summer laughed softly. “Sewer gators? Those are urban myths, there aren’t really any sewer gators. And they were in New York, anyway, not San Francisco.”
A sudden staccato groaning sound echoed through the tunnel. “What was that?” Jade asked.
“Urban myth,” Pete said as he started moving at a fairly rapid pace. “I’d stay close, if I was you. I’m not hanging around here any longer than I have to.”
Mumbling curses, the two women followed Pete. It took them nearly half an hour, and they occasionally thought they could hear sounds behind them that might have indicated pursuit—or something worse—but finally a light appeared ahead of them.
“What’s that?” Jade whispered. Summer had turned off her phone and held onto Pete’s shirttail, while Jade had been clinging to the back of Summer’s sweater for the past twenty minutes, just to be sure they didn’t get separated in the dark.
“That’s how we get out,” Pete said. “It's the storm overflow collection station. All the sewer pipes from this part of town come together here, and run off toward the treatment plant. There’s a ladder in there, and we can use it to climb out. Just try to look like you know what you’re doing and no one will bother us. I've done this lots of times.”
There was a grate over the end of the tunnel, but it was so rusted and broken that they could climb right through a big spot in its middle. Summer cursed when her sweater snagged on part of it and tore, but there was nothing to do about it so she went on. Jade stayed close behind her as they emerged into a large area where several streams came together into one large one and flowed into a huge round pipe.
Overhead, there was another grate, and the sun was shining down through it. Pete led them to a ladder at one side of the opening and began to climb, and they followed him up. He had to fiddle with a trap door at the top, but he got it open after a minute and then they were out on a concrete platform that surrounded the grate.
“Okay,” Summer said, “where are we? How do we get back to our car?”
Pete looked at her as if she were stupid. “You don’t,” he said. “You think they won’t be watching it? You go near it, you’re dead, and I ain’t gonna be there to pull you out again!”
“Great. I’m calling the police, then,” she said. “They can go with us to get it.” She took out her phone and started to dial 911, but Pete slapped her hand.
“Are you crazy? Fei runs the police in Chinatown! You call 911, you get nine millimeter! Don’t you have anyone you can call to come and get us? If we stand around too long, those guns are gonna find us again, and I’m holding you to your promise to keep me safe!”
Summer sighed and looked at her phone again. She found Steve’s number in her contacts and hit the dial button.
“Steve Beck,” he said as he answered. “Summer? You okay?”
“Not exactly, Steve,” she said. “I stink to high heaven, I've been shot in the tit, and I need a ride, like ASAP.”
“Okay, just tell me where.” He didn’t even bother to ask why she didn’t have her car; with all she had just said, he didn’t think he would have been too worried about where his car was, either.
Pete gave her the name of a store nearby, and Steve said he and Walter would leave immediately. Pete led the women out of the transfer station, right past a couple of employees who cast a few wolf whistles their way in spite of the odor that followed them, and back onto the street before taking them into an alley.
“We’ll stay here till your friend comes,” he said. “Now do you see why no one wanted to talk to you? If they’d gotten you, they would have killed me, too, just for being there. I don’t know who you are, but you picked the wrong man to go asking about. Fei is dragonhead, top man in the new triad. You don’t go looking for him; you just say his name, and he’ll find you. If he wants to talk to you, someone will pick you up; if not, someone will warn you once not to try again.”
“Okay, geez, we get it,” Jade said. “Now, just before all hell broke loose, you said you know something about the stolen chip. Start talking, Pete.”
The boy threw his hands over his face and walked a few feet, then turned and came back. “Look, this is something really outa this world, okay? I don’t know a lot, but I do know that whatever it is, that thing is big and worth a lot of money. Word’s out that there’s already been a dozen people killed over it, and we almost made three more.”
“We know of at least four,” Summer said. “There might be more than that. Keep talking.”
Pete stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “Think like this,” he said. “Somebody’s got something you want, right? You can’t get it the normal ways, can’t buy it or anything, but you just gotta have it. What do you do? You go to the most powerful guy around, and in this city, that’s Fei. You tell him, ‘Hey, Fei, ol’ buddy, I need this thing,’ and Fei names a price. If you pay the price, Fei makes sure you get what you want. If you don’t pay, then you ain’t ever seen again, because Fei don’t want you saying he put the price up too high. That’s how it works here.”
“Okay, we get that,” Summer said. “But what about this particular case? The chip. Any idea who ended up with it?”
Pete shook his head. “No, but it’s probably still around here somewhere. There’s something else they’re trying to find, and that chip is no good without it, so since they’re looking for it here, it stands to reason the chip is still here, too.”
Jade and Summer looked at each other, then back at Pete. “What are they trying to find?”
Pete smirked. “I don’t tell you that till I know I’m safe. Gotta keep my leverage, right, babes?”
18
Steve pulled up at the address Summer had given him, and was still looking around when the back doors opened and three people piled inside. He glanced into the rear view mirror and saw Summer and Jade, and a third face squeezed in between them and tried to slide downward.
“Who’s that?” Steve asked.
“His name is Pete,” Jade said, “and he’s the only reason we’r
e alive. Someone tried to kill us but he showed us a way out of the place where it was happening. He’s also got information we need, but he wants to be relocated. We told him we can do that, if his info pans out. Now, can we get out of here? Whoever wants us dead is probably still in the area.”
Steve took his foot off the brake and drove, heading back to the C-Link building. Walter turned around in his seat and sniffed. “You stink,” he said.
“Yeah, we know,” Summer said. “We had to take a shortcut through the sewers, but it kept us alive. Steve, I need to go by the hotel, please.”
“No problem,” Steve replied. He put on a turn signal and made a left at the next intersection.
Walter was still staring into the back seat. “Is that blood?” he asked.
“Yeah. Asshole shot me in the boob. I think it just nicked it, but I need to get it cleaned up and do some first aid.”
“You sure?” Steve asked. “I can take you to the hospital, if you need to go...”
“I don’t think so,” she replied. “The bleeding’s already stopped, so it didn’t go deep or hit anything critical. There’s a rip in the top of my bra, so I think it just skimmed along and took off some skin. If it needs stitches, I’ll go to the ER.”
“That,” Pete said, “would be a very bad idea.” He shook his head. “You people have no idea what you’re up against, I can tell that. You go to a hospital, you’re going to find Fei’s people waiting there. If they got to your car, which they probably did, they may be waiting at your hotel, maybe even inside the room. You’ve got to trust me on this, because without you, I’m dead, and I just happen to be very fond of myself!”
Steve looked into the rear view mirror. “Summer?”
“Well, crap,” she said. “I need to get this cleaned up, and I need a shower desperately, we all do.” She looked at Pete. “Any suggestions?”
He sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “Take a right at the next light.”
Steve followed Pete’s directions and ended up in a residential area of Daly City, just south of San Francisco. The houses were all so close together that they were almost touching, and Steve couldn't tell one from another if his life depended on it, but Pete pointed out one of them and told him to stop there.