Cole thought about what Summers said. He was sorely tempted, but in the end his pride dictated his decision. “I’m staying, brother. Let’s figure out what we can do.”
“Let’s find out where they stashed the FBI bitch,” said Summers.
“I have an idea,” said Cole. “Give me a name of someone in a position of authority in the Capitol Police.”
***
Cole used one of the burner phones. He placed a call to FBI, Philadelphia. After navigating the prompts, an agent came on the line, “Agent Frobish here.”
“Finally, a human voice. Listen, this is Cassidy of the Capitol Police. Your Agent Kintrell asked me to track something down for him. He told me to call him immediately if I found what he was looking for, and to call him on his cell, which I’ve tried three times now, or, if I couldn’t reach him on his cell, to call the hospital, and of course he hung up before he told me which hospital. What I found is time sensitive, something he needs to know right away.”
“Give me the information and I’ll see that he gets it,” said Frobish.
“That’s another thing. He said I was not to share this information with anybody but him. What the hell is going on up there, you got spies in the woodwork?”
“That’s just Kintrell being Kintrell. The hospital is Shore Memorial in Somers Point, New Jersey.”
“Thanks, so I just ask for this Agent Al, Al…”
“Alvarez, but no, ask for Mary Stuart,” said Frobish.
“Cheez, you guys, okay, thanks.”
Frobish, after thinking about it, called Kintrell and left a message.
Chapter 32
Kintrell’s phone vibrated. There were three messages from Dixon demanding he call back. Another message came from Dede requesting he call back, and another from Agent Frobish.
Kintrell and Stryker left D.C. a few minutes earlier for Philadelphia, thinking there was an outside chance that Summers and his accomplice would reach out to the judge.
He called Dede.
“Tom, as predicted, the proverbial shit has hit the fan. The Director is furious. Dixon, of course, told him he didn’t give you permission to do this, that you had to go through channels.”
“Listen, Dede, admittedly this was a Hail Mary pass. I couldn’t think of any other way to nail these guys. I’m really sorry to put you in the middle of this.”
“No, you’re not. It does kinda make sense, but the Director’s really pissed that you didn’t run this through channels, and of course Dixon’s telling anybody who will listen, that he foresaw this, blah, blah.”
“I was afraid if I asked permission, it would take too long. Dixon would nix the idea, then I would have to go over his head and you know how long that would take. These guys would be in the wind.”
“I’ll talk to the Director and see if I can contain the fallout. I know I don’t have to tell you, there’s an enormous target on your back. You be careful.”
“Thanks, Dede. I have to go dark now so you won’t be hearing from me till this thing is over.”
“Tom, wait…” But he was already gone.
As he disconnected the call, he received a text message, source unknown: two men tied up in basement of house at 24 Endicott Way Georgetown. I’m going to hurt you then gut you.
Hurt you? Kintrell immediately called Alvarez. The call went to message. He then called the hospital and asked to be connected to Mary Stuart’s room.
“Hyland here,” came the reply
“Tim, it’s Tom Kintrell. Listen, I believe Summers and his accomplice may be coming after Lanny. I need you to move her to another room ASAP, preferably on another floor, then call for backup.”
“Tom, I’m supposed to report any and all contact with you to Dixon,” said Hyland.
“That’s fine Tim, you do that, but get Alvarez to safety first.”
Hyland hesitated. “Okay, Tom, I’ll see that she’s moved.”
“Is she armed, Tim?”
“No, I don’t believe so.”
“Look, Tim, if I’m right two major bad asses are on their way there to harm her. If you have an extra piece with you, give it to her.”
“Jeez, Tom, I don’t know, she’s still on pain meds, she’s liable to shoot herself or me in the shape she’s in.”
“I understand, Tim. Move her first then try to bring her around, but Tim, she needs a weapon. Trust me when I tell you, these guys are highly competent and resourceful killers.”
“Okay, Tom, I’ll see what I can do.”
“We’re at least two hours out,” said Kintrell.
He called Dede back, gave her the address in Georgetown suggesting that whoever entered the house show extreme caution—maybe have a bomb sniffing canine with them—then disconnected before Dede could ask him any further questions.
“Seatbelts, Norm,” said Kintrell as he thought about Lanny, if they hurt her, it’s my fault.
Kintrell and Stryker, flashers on and sirens blaring, sped north on I-95 for New Jersey. Kintrell at times pushed the car past a hundred miles per hour. Once in Delaware, Kintrell cut off the sirens and used just the lights. They crossed into New Jersey via the Delaware Memorial Bridge, took I-295N then east on Route 40 towards the shore area.
***
Cole, decked out in scrubs with stethoscope straddling his neck, started checking patient rooms, floor by floor, looking for a guarded room. He entered the hospital fifteen minutes earlier and located a physicians locker room. Luckily, the room was empty. He quickly went through the lockers and found clean scrubs and the stethoscope. Another locker yielded an ID tag attached to a lanyard. At first glance he could pass for the photo on the ID card, but it wouldn’t hold up under close inspection. A silenced .22 was shoved under the scrubs at the small of his back. He wasn’t keen on killing the woman, but when he thought about his friends, he resolved to do it.
Summers thought it wise to stay out of the hospital as his picture was everywhere. His disguise would fool most people but not a trained observer. He parked the car in the lot reserved for hospital employees and waited.
Twenty-eight minutes after Cole entered the hospital, Summers received a text message: Got woman, guard, both dead, took hits in leg and side, trbl walking u best go.
Summers texted back: where r u
down bsmnt jan.clost , bleed bad.
Coming 4 u.
Summers exited the car and warily entered the hospital. He found a stairwell and made his way to the basement. Drawing his weapon, he eased his way down a long corridor. Along the corridor were signs for various administrative offices as well as a few hospital departments. Fortunately, the corridor was empty. He called Cole, the phone buzzed six times then went to message. He then texted Cole: in bsmt where u?
The reply was: right behind you.
As he spun around, there was Kintrell, his gun centered on Summers’s chest.
“Don’t even think about it, Summers,” said Kintrell.
Summers did think about for about one second, then quickly brought his weapon up.
Kintrell put two in his chest. The vest stopped the rounds, but knocked Summers to the ground and that fast, Stryker—coming from his rear, was all over him—pinning his arms to the floor. Kintrell stepped on his wrist, immobilizing the gun still in Summers’s hand. Stryker flipped him over and managed to slip the plastic restraints on him. Stryker then frisked Summers, finding another small pistol and a Ka-Bar knife.
“You don’t have the balls to face me alone, you fucking pussy,” yelled Summers.
“Your little friend Cole is dead, Summers. Bad move going after my partner. A really bad move, so I’m going to grant your wish,” said Kintrell.
“I’m going to fucking kill both of you no matter how long it takes,” said Summers.
They pulled Summers to his feet and marched him up the stairs, Stryker flashing his badge whenever they came across someone. They exited the hospital and made it to their car. They stuffed Summers in the back seat. Kintrell took over the driving.
“Tom, where’re you going?” asked Stryker.
“I promised our friend here the last dance,” said Kintrell.
“Tom, this is crazy. Let’s just get the goof in a secure facility till he can be transported back to Philly,” said Stryker.
Kintrell ignored him. Driving north on Route 9, Kintrell found what he was looking for, an isolated boarded up building. He pulled the car behind the building. After exiting the vehicle, they yanked Summers out of the car. Kintrell rummaged in the trunk and found what he’d been looking for, his Combat Troodon Knife. Stryker put the Ka-Bar in Summers’s right hand, stepped back and drew his weapon. Summers would have to cut the restraints himself with the Ka-Bar.
“So, what happens when I kill you, Kintrell?”
“Stryker will then arrest you or shoot you depending on how you behave,” said Kintrell.
“What do I have to gain?” said Summers.
“Let me see, you were going to gut me as I recall. Now’s your chance,” said Kintrell.
“I am going to kill you, Kintrell, and there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it,” said Summers, grinning.
“Maybe you can talk me to death, Summers,” said Kintrell.
“Just so you know, Summers, in the unlikely event you do win, and you don’t do exactly what I say, I’m going to shoot your dick off. Now what I want you to do is put the knife in your pocket and remove your vest. Slowly now,” said Stryker.
Summers complied, then said, “How about him?”
“I’m not wearing one,” said Kintrell as he removed his suit coat and tie.
“You sure you want to do this, Tom?” said Stryker.
“Yeah, let’s get to it,” said Kintrell.
Summers assumed the classic U.S. Military position for knife fighting, left arm extended, right arm, his knife arm, close to his side.
Kintrell assumed the Israeli military style, knife arm extended, left arm and hand protecting his throat. Circling each other, each looking for an opening, Summers attacked first, trying to grab Kintrell’s right wrist while at the same time trying to slash Kintrell’s left side.
Kintrell saw the move coming. He spun to his left and delivered a powerful back kick to Summers’s unprotected left ribs. Summers winced as one of his ribs snapped.
“Mistake number one,” said Kintrell, as they resumed circling each other.
“Lucky,” said Summers.
“Inevitable,” said Kintrell.
Summers again went on the attack, this time using a blistering frontal attack, trying to slash Kintrell’s knife hand. Kintrell successfully parried but then Summers unexpectedly delivered a heel kick to Kintrell’s right knee. Fortunately, Kintrell’s weight was more on his left leg, so the blow was painful but ineffective. Had his weight been on his right knee when the blow came, it would have been game over for Kintrell. He would have gone down and been at Summers’s mercy.
“Not bad,” said Kintrell.
Kintrell then pressed the attack, forcing Summers back and managing to slash his right forearm, evoking another wince from Summers. Enraged and knowing he was losing, Summers tried something desperate. He threw the knife at Kintrell’s face and charged.
Kintrell managed to swat the knife away and as Summers grasped him, Kintrell rolled and stuck the knife in Summers’ right side. They both went down, Kintrell winding up on top with his knife at Summers’s throat.
“Go ahead, do it motherfucker,” said Summers.
“Easy Tom, easy,” said Stryker.
“I’m not going to kill you, Summers. You didn’t desert your friend and I respect that, but I’m going to leave a memento of me for you.”
Kintrell cut a deep gash into Summers’s cheek. “You shouldn’t have gone after my partner, asshole.”
Summers was then flipped over on his stomach and had his wrists restrained again.
“You don’t have the balls to kill me, Kintrell,” screamed Summers as they man-handled him back to the car.
“I have something better in mind for you, Summers. You’re going to spend the next ninety-nine years in a six-by-six cell. You’ll have plenty of chances to practice your martial arts skills, dodging potential suitors in the showers,” said Kintrell.
Kintrell then phoned Dede and explained that he had Summers in custody, and he needed some agents to take possession of him. He also explained that Summers would need medical attention.
“We have a couple agents at the hospital now Tom. I’ll alert them that you’re on the way. Where did you disappear to and what exactly happened at the hospital?”
“Long story, Dede, but the gist of it is, these two, Summers and Cole, were going to take out Lanny and then come after me. We got word to Tim Hyland, and as he was getting Lanny to a safer location, he was set upon by Cole. Tim managed to get a shot off before Cole shot him. Luckily, Lanny was also armed, and she shot Cole before he could shoot her. Norm and I got there about a minute late. Tim’s going to be okay. He’s in surgery now, as you probably already know. I got a hold of Cole’s phone and texted Summers that he needed help and he bit. That’s it in a nutshell.”
“Okay, great job, but where did you disappear to?” said Dede.
“You don’t wanna know, Dede.”
Dede hesitated. “Hmm, another classic protocol fuck-up?”
“I’m taking the fifth on that one.”
“You’re going to have to come up with an explanation, Tom,” said Dede.
“I just have one more rat to catch. Where did you put Domingo?”
“He’s here in Philly, Tom. He hasn’t been able to talk to anyone, as we’ve been preoccupied with everything going on.”
“Great, I’m going to check on Lanny and then be back up there in two or three hours, and one other thing Dede. All that has been accomplished is a direct result of the work of one man, and that’s Norm Stryker. I would ask that you promise me that he is recognized for his contributions to the successful completion of this mission. I’d hate to see him given short shrift by Dixon on this.”
“You have my word, Tom. I’ll see to it that he’s recognized for his contributions.” said Dede, “But what about you, Tom?”
“We both know how this ends, Dede. See you in a few.”
***
Kintrell and Stryker were in Lanny’s room. “So, you shot another bad guy, huh, Alvarez?” said Stryker.
“Yeah, I was lucky,” said Alvarez.
“Lucky hell,” said Stryker, “You’re one mean mother, er ah, feeber.”
“Thanks, I think,” said Alvarez.
“I gotta get some coffee,” said Stryker, leaving Kintrell alone with Alvarez.
Kintrell sat on the edge of Alvarez’s bed, “I’m glad you’re okay, Lanny.”
“Back at you, Tom,” said Alvarez, as she gazed into his eyes.
“Well, I’ve got one more thing to do,” said Kintrell.
As he started to leave, Alvarez said, “Tom, thank you.”
“See you soon, Lanny.”
“See you soon, partner.”
“Yeah …”
***
Kintrell and Stryker made it back to the FBI office in a little over two hours. Kintrell parked in the garage and alerted Dede that he was there, and on his way to see Domingo.
Domingo was seated in an interview room, handcuffed. Kintrell, carrying a folder and Stryker, a cup of coffee, entered the room and sat.
“We know all about your history with the judge, Domingo,” Kintrell said.
“I wish to talk to my lawyer,” said Domingo.
“Of course, that is your right. I’m not going to ask you any questions, I’m just going to tell you something. The third accomplice in this kidnapping scheme was picked up two days ago in New York. It seems he had a couple bullet holes in him, and he was a known associate of your buddy Jorge. Agent Alvarez will be able to identify him. Also, your wife is about to be arrested as an accessory to the kidnapping of a federal agent. I understand that your wife is a beautiful woman. I
don’t need to tell you what goes on in these prisons with beautiful women. They are not only at the mercy of the other inmates but the guards as well. She’s a fairly young woman. Do I need to tell you what twenty years inside will do to her? Hopefully, she’ll be able to fend for herself.”
“But she had nothing to do with this, she’s completely innocent,” objected Domingo.
“Even if that’s true, I don’t think it’s going to matter. The feds are out for blood. The powers that be are all over them to punish anybody remotely connected to this fiasco. Unless …”
“Unless what?” said Domingo.
“Perhaps if you help us with the judge, we can see our way clear to leave your wife alone,” said Kintrell.
“You don’t understand, the judge saved my life,” said Domingo.
“Yeah, and then he ruined it,” said Kintrell. “Look, the judge is going down one way or another. We also have one of the perpetrators of the killings in custody. If you don’t cooperate, I’m sure he will, then any deal to save your wife is off the table.”
Domingo thought about it for a few minutes.
“Before I agree to anything I want to see my lawyer,” said Domingo.
“That is your right, but the minute I walk out that door without an agreement, I’m going to have your wife arrested,” said Kintrell, as he and Stryker rose and started for the door.
“You’re a real bastard, Kintrell,” said Domingo.
“You have no idea,” said Kintrell.
“What do I have to do?” asked Domingo.
Kintrell told him what he needed. The deal was hammered out late in the evening. As they went over the details, an agent interrupted them, telling Kintrell that SAIC Dixon wanted to speak with him as soon as he was finished with Domingo.
Termination Limits: Tom Kintrell Book 1 (Tom Kintrell Thriller Series) Page 22