Sacrifice

by Michael Arches

  Although I was spending my girlfriend’s money, I didn’t hesitate. “Terrific. We really appreciate it. Can they start right away?”

  April smiled. “Of course.”

  I went back upstairs feeling much better. Willow was already asleep, or pretending to be. I could tell her about the enhanced security in the morning.

  -o-o-o-

  At six a.m. on the shortest day of the year, I woke up without an alarm. Actually, I’d woken repeatedly, but this time, I got up and took a quick shower. Willow remained asleep, snoring softly.

  I grabbed a yogurt and toasted a bagel then fed Boomer. Before I could leave, I needed to take care of the critters in the barn. As usual when I headed outside, I carried a walkie-talkie connected to our guard. But my thoughts were focused on the search for the satanic cult. This being the winter solstice, we were running out of time to save Sandy before she literally lost her heart to the Devil.

  After I unlocked the front door, the mutt and I strolled outside into the bitter cold. The snowstorm had cleared out, leaving a cloudless sky filled with stars. According to the thermometer on the front porch, it was a few degrees below zero. A waning quarter moon hung overhead, but I turned on the outdoor lights to avoid stumbling over something and breaking my neck. My breaths produced tiny clouds of vapor. Luckily, I’d thrown on a parka and ski cap for the short walk to the heated barn.

  Boomer and I didn’t get halfway there before he froze and chuffed like he did when he smelled a strange person nearby.

  My nerves were already crackling. I grabbed his harness and pulled him back toward the house. The sudden movement confused my fake ankle. It gave out. I tumbled to the ground.

  Crack! A gunshot rang out in the distance. Southeast and up high. At almost the same instant, a bullet whizzed right over my head and ricocheted off the brick path we were on.

  Falling had saved my life.

  Some bastard was shooting from a tall bluff, over the house and into the yard. I scrambled back to the front porch, pulling the dog along until we were protected by the building. Grabbed the walkie-talkie out of my coat’s pocket. “April, gunshot. Just missed me. Call 911. Someone must be up on the bluff south of the house.”

  “On it. And contacting our patrol and the rapid response team.”

  Once the dog and I were inside, I let him go and raced upstairs to make sure Willow was safe. She was standing near a window, the curtain drawn.

  “Stay away from the window! He could shoot you. Come downstairs with me and stay with the guard.”

  “What’s happening?”

  I tried not to sound as annoyed as I felt. “Someone took a shot at me from the hill. Boomer warned me just in time. Now he’s the hunted. Let’s get you out of this room.”

  I made sure April promised to keep a close eye on my girlfriend.

  Then, the guard said, “We should launch the drone. Although it’s still dark out, it has an infrared camera.”

  I’d forgotten about Alex’s high-tech gizmo. “Brilliant, I know the bastard up there is trying to get away before we can get our act together. The drone will lead us to him.”

  April pulled it out from a hard-sided case, and all of us hurried out front. She set it on the walkway on a spot where it and we couldn’t be seen from the bluff because the house was in the line of sight. We ran back inside. From the guard room, she launched it. Could send it anywhere within a couple of miles.

  “Remember, this guy’s got a rifle,” I said. “Keep the drone moving erratically so he can’t shoot it down.”

  “You got it,” April said. “The outside patrol is at the outer gate.”

  “Tell them to circle the bluff on its east side. There’s a whole neighborhood back up there where the shooter might try to hide. That’s where his escape vehicle has to be, too. The dog and I’ll swing around the bluff on the opposite side, coming from the west. It’s a shorter route, but we’ll be running, not driving. I’ll stay in contact with you by walkie-talkie.”

  She nodded.

  From a locked closet, I grabbed my .357 Magnum pistol, its holster, and my elk rifle, a Browning .300 Win Mag. Then I stuffed my pockets with several full rifle magazines. Boomer and I dashed through an enclosed breezeway to the garage. I kept an extra armored vest there and put it on.

  The side of the bluff that faced us was steep and barren. The shooter had to have been on top. Up there, juniper trees and pinion grew sporadically. They’d provide some cover for him, but most of the ground remained open. His best bet would be to get to a vehicle parked on one of the roads southeast of the bluff and zoom away before we could mobilize our pursuit.

  I hoped Alex’s patrol would block his escape. Boomer and I were only heading up to the bluff from the opposite side to keep the shooter from sneaking off in a weird direction. There were no roads to the south or west of the bluff, but an experienced outdoorsman could head south and climb into the snowbound high mountains of the Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness Area.

  My mutt and I left the ranch and swung to the southwest. We had to cross Capitol Creek, but an old, narrow bridge kept us dry. Then we began the steep climb on the back side of the bluff.

  April kept me updated with frequent reports. Cops from several jurisdictions were on the way, but most were too far out to help in the short term. Chaz, our new guy, was about ten minutes away in Snowmass Village.

  “The drone has acquired the target,” April said. “Like you thought, Hank, he’s running southeast across mostly open ground. Our patrol is almost in position to intercept.”

  Now that I knew the shooter wasn’t right above us angling for a clear shot, the dog and I could move faster. We circled the highest ground and dropped over a ridge that gave us an expansive view of the area behind the bluff. The sun was beginning to brighten the southeastern sky. A couple of roads wandered around the gently sloped southern face of the bluff. Those roads provide access for the handful of ranches in that area.

  I couldn’t see the shooter, but thanks to April, I knew where he had to be. Boomer and I ran to take up a position between him and the nearest ranch house.

  “Our patrol has found the shooter’s vehicle,” April said. “They’ve parked next to it to keep the shooter from escaping with it.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “We’re approaching from the southwest. Direct Chaz to the shooter’s vehicle. If we get enough help quickly, we’ll be able to surround the perp.”

  A rifle shot rang out about a quarter mile ahead. It sounded like it came from the same rifle I’d heard earlier. The bullet didn’t whizz this way, so he wasn’t shooting at me. He’d probably spotted the patrol team near his escape vehicle.

  Sure enough, two other rifles opened up. They fired steadily. Message clear—you can’t come this way.

  Much farther away, a siren wailed. Probably Chaz.

  Boomer and I ran toward the shooting at a steady clip. An SUV with flashing lights came into view on the far side of the valley, a couple miles away. Chaz was zooming right to the spot he needed to be—at the escape vehicle.

  More sirens screamed in the breaking dawn. Another SUV with flashing lights was following Chaz. The shooter wasn’t driving out of this valley.

  What would he do next? The smart move would be to surrender, but that probably meant getting tagged for the murders of Natasha and Lexi. Not a happy prospect for the bastard. He was blocked in the north and east by a growing horde of cops. Boomer and I stood in his way on the southwest.

  He could go straight south, but nothing except high mountains that way. He’d be forced to post hole through the snow in the forest. Not a great option, unless he had lots of very specialized equipment, but he didn’t have any better alternative. I spoke to my walkie-talkie. “April, direct the next couple of cops arriving to drive as far south of Chaz as they can on that loop road. We want to cut the shooter off from the forest. And after that, I wouldn’t mind if somebody came around the way I did to back me and the mutt up.”r />
  “You bet. I’ll pass it along.”

  Boomer and I moved in front of the westernmost ranch house in the valley, specifically to keep shooter away. At this point, time was on our side. No need to confront the son of a bitch. Every minute that passed meant more help coming to our side.

  An old man in a white robe came out of the ranch house a hundred yards away. “What’s going—”

  I cut him off. “Police! Get back inside, sir. Lock your doors. Stay away from the windows.”

  He ran back inside and slammed the door.

  I kept scanning the sagebrush and scrub oaks in front of us, but no sign of the shooter.

  A few minutes later, Boomer chuffed.

  I punched the call button on the walkie-talkie. “April, the dog thinks he’s coming this way. Boomer hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”

  “Trying to get you back up,” she said. “It’ll be at least a few minutes.”

  She might as well have said ten hours. This fight was going to be over within a minute or so. The mutt and I needed cover, but there was damned little of it around.

  Except, the homeowner had placed a small replica of an old Calistoga wagon near the entrance to his driveway. It might be a decent barrier to bullets. The dog and I barely fit behind it, and I tied his leash to a spoke on one wheel so he wouldn’t take off when I was otherwise occupied saving our lives. He hated loud noises like gunfire.

  I peeked around the side of the wagon looking for movement to the north. No helmet this time to protect my skull. Just the ballistic vest.

  The sun crept over the horizon and lit up the land with a pink glow. I would’ve taken a picture under other circumstances.

  Two hundred yards out, I spotted a man dressed in white camo from head to tail. He dashed from a tall Juniper to a clump of scrub oaks. His rifle was very long and narrow, a sniper’s gun.

  I brought my own rifle up and rested it on a lip of wood hanging on the back of the wagon. Couldn’t tell whether we’d been spotted.

  The guy in camo dashed from one bit of cover to another, headed right at this house. Probably thought a hostage was his only chance to avoid getting caught.

  I didn’t disagree with his logic, but he’d have to step over my dead body.

  While I still had a chance, I said in a low voice to the walkie-talkie, “April, I have him in sight. I’m in front of the westernmost ranch. It’s definitely occupied. Tell all units to converge.”

  “Ten-four.”

  I knew they would, but it would probably be too late.

  Boomer whimpered. He’d been in this rodeo before, and he didn’t care for what was about to happen next. While I waited, I scanned the area with my rifle’s scope.

  “Lay still and look pretty,” I whispered.

  He didn’t seem to appreciate the humor of my comment.

  The shooter dashed forward again, now only a hundred yards away. And there was little cover for him to take advantage of closer in. I checked to make sure my safety was off and waited for his next move.

  Something white moved behind a pinion pine filling my rifle’s scope. I squeezed off a round over his head to let him know he was stuck.

  The shooter fired four times in rapid succession. One whizzed right past my ear. That sent a jolt of adrenaline through me. Another shot hit the wagon with a loud clunk. Boomer bayed. Dust floated all around and got into my eyes.

  I blinked a dozen times until I could see again, at least partially.

  Dead silence…until April’s drone zoomed down and buzzed the pinion. A man’s voice yelped, and something white moved behind the branches. Metal clashed against metal. He’d probably hit the drone with his rifle. When he moved again, I squeezed the trigger once more, firing for effect.

  He screamed. Seemed to be in incredible pain, but I wasn’t eager to cross no-man’s-land to find out. And because he’d shot at me a handful of times, I wasn’t feeling much sympathy.

  “Help me!” the man yelled. “For God’s sake, please.”

  “Crawl out in the open,” I yelled back. “Stretch your arms above your head.”

  He slithered out from behind the pinion like a snake. “You hit one arm. I can’t move it.”

  With my rifle’s scope, I looked him over. He was lying on his stomach with one side closer to me. Couldn’t see any blood, but I couldn’t see his right side. Too bad he’d smashed the drone.

  “Please help me! Bleeding to death!”

  Against my better judgment, I stood and dashed toward him. Boomer crooned when I left him behind, but he couldn’t help.

  At fifty yards, I scoped the guy again. “Don’t move, or I’ll blow your head off.”

  I stepped forward more deliberately now. I slung my rifle over my shoulder and drew my Magnum. It was better at short range.

  When I came within fifteen feet, I stopped. His head was covered with a white ski mask that hid his features. “Roll over and show me your wound. Move slow or else you’ve seen your last sunrise.”

  He rolled slowly, but his arm swung toward me quickly.

  Little blood was on his chest, which seemed odd for an arm wound. I barely had time to aim and fire. His pistol discharged, and the bullet zoomed over my head. I hit him in the right shoulder. He shrieked much louder this time.

  He’d been counting on catching me by surprise, and the bastard had almost pulled it off. Lesson learned. A cop can never be too cynical.

  Boomer bayed even louder than the shooter. I ignored them both and called April on the walkie-talkie. “Everybody can calm down. It’s over. Send an ambulance for the dirt bag.”

  “Great, Hank. Willow is smiling again.”

  I pulled the ski mask off the guy’s head. “You fucking son of a bitch. I should shoot you in the balls.”

  Leo Salieri didn’t respond, just held his shoulder and moaned.

  I used my handcuffs to lock his ankles together, then checked him for more weapons. My first bullet had grazed his right arm just above the elbow, but little blood loss. The shoulder was a different story. I must’ve hit an artery, so I used his ski mask to cover my left hand and pressed hard on his wound to keep him from bleeding out.

  Several times, I asked him where the rest of his cult was hiding, but he didn’t speak.

  Chapter 16

  Chaz arrived first, parking at the entrance to the house’s driveway. I yelled at him to bring Boomer with him. The mutt continued to bay.

  When they found me, he said, “Lots of folks on the way.”

  Alex, the head of Willow’s security company, showed up next. He and my mastiff were breathing hard. “We came up the same way you did. I’m getting too old for this running around shit.”

  “Tell me about it.” I petted Hercules, to thank him for coming to help, and Boomer, who’d proved the incredible value of his nose once more.

  Soon, the area was swarming with cops. An EMT took over for me and kept Leo from taking the fast train to Hell. I kept having to repeat my story for each new wave of cops that arrived.

  Randy came and took my Magnum, again. I went through everything in more detail before saying, “Leo wouldn’t talk, so we’re basically in the same lousy spot we were last night.”

  “Yeah, we’re reducing their numbers, but too slowly. We’ve already gotten a search warrant for his place and his vehicles. Linda’s at the house. Maybe she’ll turn up something helpful.”

  “If not,” I said, “we need to execute our plan from last night. Hit all five of the ranches. Maybe some of the cops who came here can help us.”

  A few minutes later, Manny Martinez, Glenwood’s police chief, arrived. Randy and I pulled him aside and explained our plan. As usual, the grizzled old cop was happy to help.

  Our DA, Malcolm Younger, showed up. Not quite as welcome.

  Before I could speak, Randy said, “We really need you to clear Hank for duty as soon as possible. You know what we have in the works, and she’s the mastermind for our case.�
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  “I’ll do my very best,” Malcolm said. “Give me the ten-minute version of what happened. Then I’ll check with the others while I’m here.”

  After I talked to the DA, I walked over to the house. Knocked on the door.

  The old man answered, still in his white house robe.

  I introduced myself and said, “So sorry to have yelled at you earlier. Things were dicey, but we now have it all under control.”

  “I knew you were just doing your job. Everything caught me by surprise. I shouldn’t have come out.”

  That was true, but I didn’t say so. Instead, I thanked him for being so cooperative and gave him a very brief rundown of what’d happened on his ranch.

  By the time I returned to the scrum of cops, Leo had left for the hospital with a deputy to keep him from getting frisky.

  Malcolm approached me. “Good news. The evidence against Leo is overwhelming. We’ve got videos and eyewitness testimony from at least a dozen officers and private parties that tell a consistent story. You’re cleared to return to duty.”

  I shook his hand and thanked him. One less worry. Then I found Randy. “Listen, I think our only chance to get Leo to talk is through his brother. Would you be willing to ask Hal to chat with the dirt bag?”

  Our chief deputy nodded. “I’m happy to make the pitch, but I know there’s considerable friction between the two. Don’t get your hopes up that Leo will open up to his main rival for their mom’s affections. I’ll head to their family’s estate now.”

  I didn’t envy him that job. He was bearing heartbreaking news a few days before Christmas. At least Leo hadn’t managed to get himself killed, despite his best efforts.

  -o-o-o-

  Because we were close, Chaz and I searched Leo’s vehicle, a Mercedes SUV. Didn’t find a damned thing that might help, except a locked cellphone. I put it in a sealed evidence bag and arranged for a towing company to take the SUV to our impound lot. Our lab techs could take a closer look there.

  Then Chaz dropped me and Boomer off at home. My furry partner and I grabbed my Jeep, and headed to Leo’s house where Linda was executing a search. Didn’t have any time to chat with Willow, but I hoped she’d understand.