Maria now has Randy in a headlock after the second elbow strike. Randy screams for help.
“Police brutality! Help me! This bitch is psycho!”
Maria ignores him as she flips her left leg behind her back and hits Randy in the face with a scorpion kick. It’s an extremely agile technique. Mendez halts his movement. Probably because he doesn’t know if he should be impressed or frightened by this new Maria.
“Maria!” he shouts.
Maria feels a wash of embarrassment as she releases her grip on Randy’s neck. She lets him fall to the ground with a bloody nose. The man is on all fours as he vomits on the sidewalk. She looks around and realizes that Mendez isn’t her only spectator. A few pedestrians and passing motorists film the arrest; however, most seem to support her and are amazed by her fighting ability.
“Way to whup that pervert’s ass!” one woman shouts as the crowd cheers.
Mendez walks his man over to the car and places him into the back seat. Maria is busy cuffing Randy. Mendez picks up Randy and walks him over to the car as well.
“I’m sorry, Mendez. He reached for me. I got nervous. I wasn’t sure if he was going for my gun or not,” Maria explains.
Mendez speaks louder than necessary in a blatant attempt to let the audience hear. “That’s alright. We have body cameras for incidents like this. It’ll go in the report. In the meantime, I caught our first guy as he was trying to get rid of his drugs. We’ll take them in for the possession and let the lawyers do their thing.”
Maria mouths a thank you. Her timid persona once again present.
“Come on, Partner,” Mendez says, “we gotta book these guys.”
The two load their car and drive off.
It’s exactly six-thirty PM, and a black limousine pulls up in front of the Sanders’ residence. The chauffeur opens the door, and an immaculately dressed Yuri steps out, long stemmed red roses in hand.
Yuri walks up to the door and rings the doorbell. Moments later a stunning Tina answers. She wears Yuri’s dress to perfection.
Yuri is enamored. “You look enchanting.”
Tina poses. “Ooh, enchanting. I like that. You’re quite the charmer.”
“These are for you,” Yuri states as he hands Tina the roses.
“I love them.”
Yuri offers his elbow, and Tina accepts it. He then leads her to the limousine. “I aim to be. If you would follow me, we have an event to dominate.”
“No aide tonight?”
“I gave Miss Tress the night off. She’s a workaholic and would constantly put that tablet in my face if I brought her. This evening is about you.”
Tina is still laughing as Yuri opens the door for her and helps her get in. He then runs around and enters the other side. The limousine drives off.
The scene at the Gala Dining Hall is lavish. Everyone is dressed in his or her very best. A lot of mingling and favor asking takes place. Yuri sits at the head table with Tina, but she apparently has all his attention.
“This food is delicious,” Tina declares. “I’ve never tasted anything so good.”
“Perhaps ten-thousand-dollar fish does taste better,” Yuri suggests.
Tina laughs. “I’ll say it does.”
“Curious.”
“What is?” Tina asks.
“I’ve always argued that people are born to a specific palate range. You can slowly slide the scale but not overnight. You seem to prove this not to be the case.”
Tina leans closer to Yuri. “Now I have to know. How does this theory work?”
“You’re either born rich, middle, poor, or desolate. The desolates don’t count because they would be fools to not eat. They eat whatever and whenever.”
“Naturally.”
“Naturally. The poor range likes American fast food above all else. They eat fried bologna sandwiches and fluffernutters.”
“Okay.”
“They won’t try Chilean sea bass, escargots, or caviar. It’s outside their palate range.”
“Hmm. So, what about the middle class?”
Yuri smiles as Tina plays along. “The middle class have the largest range, but to them a sit down, American franchise restaurant is the ideal taste. Some may eat the poor food and some may look forward to upper class meals--”
“But?”
“But, they’ll be scared to ask for steak sauce at a fine dining establishment, even if they desperately want it.”
“I see. So, then what do your people at the top eat?”
“My people?”
“Yes.”
“Fair enough, Tina. My people eat the weird stuff that nobody else wants. They look forward to being on waiting lists for months and paying ridiculous prices for the privilege. Case in point, this event tonight.”
Yuri gestures to the crowd.
“So, then what are you saying about me?” Tina asks.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You said that I disprove your theory. Does this mean you don’t think I count as the rich? I am a spinal surgeon, you know.”
Yuri glances away, but Tina bursts into laughter.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I had to make you sweat. I barely have time to eat, let alone at the station you claim I’m afforded.”
Tina laughs more, and Yuri joins her.
“You have a splendid laugh, my dear. Everything about you is remarkable,” Yuri says.
A well-dressed man approaches a podium on the stage. He addresses the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention.”
The conversations in the room eventually cease. All eyes turn toward the speaker.
“Thank you,” he continues. “I’d like to welcome you all tonight. We’re here to pledge our support to Mayor Clarke.”
The speaker gestures to Brianna, who stands and takes a quick bow to applause.
The speaker continues. “That support comes in word, deed, and pocketbook.”
There’s some polite laughter.
The master of ceremonies continues his opening comments. “To woo you into letting go of the purse strings is a man much more suitable for the task, Mr. Yuri Osaka.”
There is more laughter and applause as Yuri gives Tina a kiss on the cheek. He walks toward the podium. Tina holds her cheek and smiles. She’s aware that more than a few people observe her with apparent fascination. It’s apparently one of the side effects of being Yuri’s date.
Yuri approaches the podium and addresses the crowd. “Thank you. I’m pleased to be the keynote speaker at tonight’s event. This city has been good to me. This country has been good to me. When I was a boy growing up in the Soviet Union, I dreamed of the American life. An orphan in that part of the world, in those days, did not have the luxury of dreams.”
Tina leans in. She intently listens to Yuri’s story.
Yuri continues his tale. “Thankfully, I was adopted by Japanese-American parents. They raised me as their own and instilled in me a strong work ethic. They may be long gone, but their expectations of me and lessons live on. I know that they would expect me to help save this city from tearing itself apart.”
Yuri takes a sip of water before continuing.
“I know that many of you were brought up with the same principles and ideals. We live in an age where terrorism is easy and is quickly surpassing the local police’s ability to combat it. A time when some in the media celebrate a criminal. Maybe the vigilante has done good things for the city, but the end can never justify the means.”
Tina finds herself nodding in agreement as Yuri speaks.
“Many of you have heard me talk about legalizing drugs. I think this vigilante helps cement my point. He mostly attacks underprivileged men and women who see the drug trade as their only escape. This man then brutally beats them, to the point of paralysis, simply because life gave them a raw hand. They weren’t lucky like me. They didn’t have wealthy parents who took them in and showed them what is right. Ten-year-old Yuri Sadovsky was dealt a ba
d hand. Without the intervention of the Osakas, I would have been one of those youths. I find it reprehensible to think of a man passing judgment outside of the law. We need to support our police and elected officials.”
The crowd cheers.
“We need to pledge them the money to get the necessary equipment and training to stop this new kind of uber-terrorism.”
There are more cheers.
“We need to send a message to the rest of the world that Colberton is a good place, and we’re not a wasteland.”
Most members of the audience nod with each of Yuri’s points.
“This may require drastic changes. Yes, I would like that to mean legal drugs, but the downtrodden have suffered enough.”
The crowd cheers again.
“They don’t need to be punished by an armored boogeyman. They need to be helped by those with the means. I’m going to pledge five million dollars for this cause. I hope that the rest of you will do likewise.”
The loudest cheers erupt. A standing ovation soon follows.
Tina has tears in her eyes. She was so moved by Yuri. The master of ceremonies walks over to shake Yuri’s hand. While they’re shaking hands, a loud crack rings out.
Yuri is thrown to the ground. For a second, nobody says anything, then pandemonium erupts. Tina screams and tries to get to Yuri, who isn’t moving. She’s blocked by the stampeding upper crust and bodyguards.
Many people run for the doors. Tina is swept up in the flood of bodies. A motionless Yuri is covered by his bodyguards as they move him to the safety of a back room.
Many of the guards and event security search the rooftop to see if a sniper is there. They frantically look in all directions.
Brianna is also raced out of the room by her security detail. She seems all too willing to lead the way to safety.
“Do we know where the shooter is?” she asks.
“Keep your head down, Madame Mayor,” her security leader instructs. “We’ll figure it out once you’re safe.”
Tracing that shot leads to a helicopter flying away.
Inside the helicopter, Julie disassembles a .50 caliber sniper rifle. She wears a confident smile.
“Has The Chairman retired?” her pilot asks.
Julie waves her hand to indicate a fifty percent chance. “The shot was clean, but I only got one. His detail was too fast. The angle required a chest shot, so I couldn’t confirm.”
“If not, we can always try again. It was a hell of a shot,” the pilot compliments.
“Thanks. Hopefully we won’t have to try again. Let’s get out of here.”
The helicopter flies away while sirens sound in the distance.
Chapter 8
Yuri’s detail carries him through the parking garage of the gala to his armored car. Yuri isn’t bleeding. He’s alive, but he’s hurt. His body armor took the shot, but he’s bruised underneath.
“Hurry,” Yuri rasps.
Yuri’s breathing is labored as he futilely tries to compose himself. His detail continues to carry him through the garage.
The detail leader barks orders to his men. “Get the door open now!”
“Put me down!” Yuri demands. “I can do it myself!”
Yuri’s detail seems reluctant to set him down, but they follow orders.
“If you say so, sir,” his detail leader says.
“I do, Otis,” Yuri reaffirms.
Many other attendees of the gala run by. They’re all fleeing to their own escape vehicles. None seem to realize that nobody is actually chasing them.
Yuri assesses his armored limousines. “We’ll take the green one today.”
“Understood, sir,” Otis says and instantly reassigns the teams to the remaining decoy vehicles.
More people run past Yuri and his security detail.
“Sir, please let me take you to the hospital,” Otis pleads.
The mention of hospital reminds Yuri of Tina. He instantly becomes agitated. “Where’s Tina?”
Otis responds, “Sir, she got swept up with the crowd. I’m not sure where she ran off to, but I know that she got out.”
Yuri slaps Otis across the face with a weak backhand. It produces a groan, but Yuri believes the symbolism and principle are worth some discomfort.
“Idiot! You shouldn’t have left her. You’ll personally go back inside and get her out.”
“Yes, sir. You three--” Otis points out the three closest bodyguards, “--on me; we’re going to retrieve Miss Sanders.”
The four men race back inside the dining hall. A new security guard leader helps Yuri into his armored car. “Sir, we have to get you out of here.”
Yuri is unwilling to move. “Who are you again?”
“Jerry Swanson, sir,” the man answers.
“Well, Mr. Swanson, we won’t move until Tina is here. I won’t leave her.”
Yuri struggles to breathe.
“Sir, we need to get you to the hospital. Miss Sanders will be fine. She wasn’t the target. You are. There may be a second attack.”
“I’ll be fine in this vehicle,” Yuri stubbornly reassures. “We have the time to wait for Tina to get here.”
“At least let me secure the door,” Jerry urges.
Yuri relents. “Fine, but I’ll retire every single one of you if we leave before she’s here.”
“Understood, sir.”
Back inside the Gala Dining Hall, the security detail examines an empty room. They all have .45 caliber pistols drawn and at the ready. Many tables are turned over, spilling ten-thousand-dollar fish everywhere.
“Stay frosty, boys,” Otis reminds his team. “The shooter could still be present.”
The other three nod. They immediately go over to the place where Tina was previously sitting before the shot was taken.
Otis looks around for an obvious escape pattern. “She didn’t go out the back, or we would have seen her.”
“Most people were rushing the front doors. She may have gone with the flow of traffic, so to speak,” a bodyguard suggests.
Otis agrees. “Good point. Let’s go that way.”
The four cautiously move toward the front doors.
Yuri sits in his armored car, worried and injured.
“Everyone, hold this perimeter,” Jerry orders.
He gets nods from multiple men. Yuri has an extensive detail for the night.
Yuri feels vibration coming from his vest pocket. He reaches in, pulls out a phone, and places it next to his ear.
“Hello?”
Yuri hears relief in Tina’s voice on the other end. “Yuri, thank God! Are you okay?”
Relief floods Yuri. “I could be better, but I’ll live. How are you? We’re waiting in the garage for you.”
“Don’t wait for me. I got out with help from the mayor. We’re driving straight for the hospital because I assumed they were rushing you in for emergency surgery. I’m so proud to discover I’m wrong.”
“I’m just relieved to hear your voice. I was more afraid of you thinking I abandoned you than a would-be assassin’s bullet.”
Yuri groans as he feels the pain in his chest.
“That doesn’t sound like you’re one hundred percent,” Tina says. “Please go to the hospital. I’ll meet you there.”
“Now that I know you’re okay, absolutely. I promised you a memorable evening. I always keep my promises.”
Yuri circles his hand, indicating to his detail to get a move on. With rehearsed precision, they pile into their vehicles.
Jerry speaks into his radio. “We’re moving out. The VIP has been discovered.”
Otis responds via the radio, “Understood, we’re moving to your location.”
Yuri continues his conversation with Tina. “Tina, we’re about to leave. I’ll see you soon.”
“Good. I--”
An explosion rocks the parking garage and interrupts Tina’s response. One of the vehicles with part of the security detail explodes. The initiator being the start of its engine.
“Jesus!” Tina screams. “What was that? Yuri, Yuri, are you alright?”
Tina’s insignificant voice rests on the floor of the armored car while several of her scattered roses lay upon Yuri’s phone. Yuri feels ringing in his ears. He dropped his phone when he reacted to the explosion and lost sight of, and interest in, it.
Yuri’s driver doesn’t wait for the order. Instinct and training activate, and he immediately drives away. The four remaining vehicles closely follow. Tina’s tiny voice can be heard from under the passenger seat, but nobody pays it any attention.
“Yuri! Yuri!”
Votary watches from his cloaked position inside of the dining hall. He uses the distraction from the explosion in the garage to ambush his targets.
The abandoned security detail was running through the dining room when the explosion went off. Otis immediately tries to get a situation report.
“Bravo element, I need a SITREP. Is The Chairman presiding?”
Jerry sends Otis a frantic response. “Get out through the alternate route. We have The Chairman and are moving him to Lifeline.”
“Understood, get me infor--”
A scream interrupts Otis’ response. He looks over as shots start to once again break the silence of the dining room.
Otis looks at his three soldiers firing into Votary.
Votary flies straight into the pack of soldiers and sticks out his arms to clothesline two of the guards. They both drop their pistols and start gagging.
Otis issues orders into his radio. “Get The Chairman out of here! The Oppo--Ugh.”
Otis is clubbed over the head multiple times by Votary using his escrima sticks. Otis falls over and ceases to move.
The two guards experiencing coughing fits finally recover and unload their clips into Votary. He just stands there and lets them finish.
“To hell with this!” one of them shouts.
The guard attempts to flee, and Votary shoots his adhesive at the man’s feet. He’s instantly immobilized, but his momentum forces his upper body to fall over. Both his knees break, then the man’s face smashes into the floor. His screams are piercing.
Votary’s modulated voice resonates off the walls. “And, then there were two.”
Bystanders Page 22