Illusive Witness

by S. Y. Thompson

  “Can we go now?” Moore asked impatiently. “We’re going to be late.”

  Ruth stood and headed for the door. Now that the moment was at hand, she was suddenly nervous. This safe house wasn’t much, but the idea of leaving the sanctuary terrified her. Ruth flinched slightly as she ducked through the door, almost expecting an attack. Moore chuckled at her obvious discomfort and Ruth felt her cheeks go warm.

  “Stop it, Lyle. I’ve had just about enough,” Emma warned him.

  “What?”

  He didn’t wait for a response as he headed to the car and slipped behind the wheel. Ruth frowned, noticing that their vehicle had changed. She and Emma had arrived in a dark colored Lincoln. This was a beat-up white Ford sedan with flaky paint and mismatched tires. It belched black smoke when Moore started the engine. They must have switched the vehicles when they brought her clothes in.

  “We’re going in that?”

  “It’ll get us there,” Emma responded with a hint of amusement.

  “I’m glad my will is up to date.”

  The cramped backseat smelled like stale hamburgers and beer. Ruth tucked into the corner and tried not to touch anything. Moore roared out onto the gravel road like he was in a hurry and Ruth belatedly snapped her seatbelt. It took less than fifteen minutes to reach downtown Los Angeles and Ruth realized Emma had been truthful when she said they weren’t that far from the city. At a quarter to ten, Moore negotiated the turn into the alley behind the courthouse. During the short ride, Ruth had kept looking behind them but hadn’t noticed anyone following.

  High rise office buildings crowded close on the other side of the alley, but there weren’t any other cars. Large metal dumpsters and heaps of garbage seemed to be their only companions. Ruth had expected the others to already be present.

  “Where are they?”

  “Don’t worry,” Moore said, not quite as snarky as usual. “They’ll be here.”

  He parked directly behind the rear steps to the judicial building, but didn’t shut off the engine. Ruth disengaged her seatbelt, noticing Moore’s nervous tapping on the steering wheel. A few minutes later, she spotted a vehicle turn down the opposite side of the alley. Sunlight glinted off the pristine blue paint of an Escalade.

  “I guess they didn’t get the memo about not standing out.”

  Both Emma and Moore ignored Ruth’s comment as they exited the vehicle. Ruth trailed along behind, hoping the stench from inside the car didn’t cling to her clothes. The smell in the alley wasn’t any better. It reminded Ruth of stale urine. After joining the other two at the base of the stairs, Ruth brushed a piece of lint from her shoulder. She wasn’t really paying attention to the second car. She heard it stop and listened as three doors slammed closed.

  “Nice, Moore. Where’d you find that thing, in a junk heap?”

  “Shut up, Harrington. I hope you’re ready for this, Snake. You better not be jerking us around.”

  Ruth was somehow pleased that she wasn’t the only one Moore treated with such hostility. She checked out the newcomers. At first glance, the three men all resembled U.S. Marshals. Each wore three-piece suits, but the disgruntled look on the tall, slender blond’s face identified him as the original speaker. He must be Harrington. A shorter, dumpy man with a large bald spot seemed to find humor in the situation. Ruth didn’t believe he was this “Snake.”

  Options narrowed down to one, Ruth assessed the third man bringing up the rear. He didn’t fit her image of a cold-blooded killer. Clean shaven with curly brown hair and blue eyes, Snake seemed to be the epitome of a well-dressed, well-mannered man. That picture changed when she looked into his eyes. They were cold, showing little expression. She could see tattoos on the backs of his knuckles. His eyes passed over her and moved on, uninterested as he noted all the players.

  “Why do they call you Snake?” Ruth wasn’t sure what made her ask and evidently she wasn’t the only one. His gaze returned to her and Ruth had his full attention. He didn’t look pleased and she was sorry she’d asked.

  “My last name is Adder, or at least it used to be.” The comment was enough to drive home his participation in Witness Protection.

  “That’s enough chit-chat,” Moore interrupted.

  While she wasn’t looking, he’d climbed the stairs to the back door. His hand hovered near a cipher pad. Ruth wondered if marshals routinely had the code to enter the rear of a courthouse. That didn’t really make sense to her, unless it was part of this pre-arranged plan. Someone could always change the code later, but that seemed like a lot of work to arraign one man.

  “He’s right,” Emma said in a tone clearly designed to soothe ruffled feathers. “We should go.”

  The group started toward the building. Emma was in the lead. As soon as her foot touched the first step, an explosion reverberated through the alley. Ruth flinched and instinctively raised her hands to cover her head. The others around her dove for cover.

  “Ambush!” Moore yelled.

  After that, Ruth lost track of the others save for Emma. Emma grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled Ruth behind the metal dumpster. In reality, the explosion was a gunshot. A rain of bullets hailed down as Ruth cowered behind the box. She screamed when one of them bounced off the edge of the dumpster a few inches from her face. Emma wrapped an arm around Ruth and pulled her farther into the shadows.

  “Stay here.”

  Emma traded places with her and Ruth saw the gun in her hand. She looked up and all around the alley before shouting. “Anyone see the shooter?”

  No one responded.

  “Damn it.” She turned to Ruth. “You’ll be safe here.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have to make sure the other witness is safe.”

  She was gone before Ruth could tell her she was out of her mind. All she could do was huddle between the dumpster and the concrete wall. While Ruth was terrified she’d be shot, she was more worried for Emma. She scooted to the edge of the trash container and peered around the edge. Emma had dashed over to crouch behind the dilapidated Ford near the front tire. Harrington lay unmoving on his back in the alley, but Ruth couldn’t see an injury from her vantage point. The other marshal and Snake were pinned behind their vehicle. Moore was nowhere in sight. The windows were blown out of both cars and they were full of bullet holes.

  Ruth watched helplessly as Emma kept trying to get to Harrington, but the gunfire was too intense. “Delaney, cover me!”

  Ruth gasped as the marshal stood unexpectedly and fired upward at the building across the alley. In the brief respite that followed, Emma dashed away from the car and grabbed Harrington under the shoulders. She pulled him toward safety, but his weight kept Emma from moving very fast. Ruth’s concern for Emma overrode her common sense. She ran toward Emma and the downed marshal, taking an arm to help pull him behind the vehicle.

  “Snake, stop!”

  Ruth turned to see Snake heading directly toward her. Surprise kept her kneeling beside the Ford, but Snake wasn’t trying to get to Ruth. He kept going, seeming intent on reaching the more fortified position behind the dumpster. Before he could reach his goal, a burst of automatic fire made his body jump like a puppet on a string. Snake stopped running and fell face down into a pile of trash. He was less than a foot away and Ruth thought she saw him moving.

  She couldn’t let him die. Snake was the only one who could ensure she didn’t forfeit life as she knew it. The Feds needed the ledger and he alone had the knowledge to its whereabouts. Fear forgotten, Ruth crouched and ran to him. She heard Emma call her name, but this was more important. Ruth struggled to turn Snake onto his back. Her exposure to death limited, Ruth could still see the impending signs.

  “No, you can’t die. You have to tell them where the book is.”

  Snake tried to speak, but with all the gunshots echoing down the alley, Ruth couldn’t hear his words. The wail of police sirens on approach added to the cacophony. She leaned closer and started when Snake grabbed her lapel with a blo
ody hand. He pulled her to him.

  “Under...his desk. Safe,” Snake whispered into her ear.

  “It’s safe under Carlotti’s desk?” That didn’t make sense.

  Snake shook his head and tried again. “A safe...under...”

  Clarity hit like a lightning bolt. “The ledger is in a safe under his desk?”

  His eyes closed and Ruth felt Snake’s grasp slacken. There was nothing more she could do for him. Ruth turned around as Moore sprinted from concealment behind the concrete courthouse steps. He was headed toward the car, but Ruth didn’t hear any more shooting. Emma pulled her to her feet and pushed Ruth after Moore. She appeared to be limping.

  “What happened?”

  “Delaney got the shooter, but there will be more on the way. We have to get out of here.”

  Back in the Ford, Moore floored it and tore out of the alley. Ruth noticed that Delaney stayed behind with Snake and the wounded Marshal Harrington. “What about them?”

  “Snake’s already dead and the marshals aren’t the target. Delaney will make sure Harrington gets taken care of.”

  Aren’t the target. The words echoed in her ears. Ruth’s mouth went dry and adrenaline surged again making her hands tremble as she attempted to fasten the seatbelt. They hit the end of the alley and horns blared as Moore sped into oncoming traffic. He slammed the brakes on and pulled the car hard to the left. Ruth struck her head against the door and it took a second for her vision to clear. She could hear the squeal of brakes as other drivers reacted and braced herself for the crash that never came. As they accelerated down the roadway, Ruth looked up through the windshield just in time to see Moore blow through a red traffic light.

  “Are you trying to get us killed?”

  “Ask him that,” Moore shot back. Ruth noticed his eyes pinned to the rearview mirror. She glanced back, afraid of what she would find. A red Ninja motorcycle was in hot pursuit. The driver wore a black helmet with an equally dark full-face visor.

  “Well this is a monster cluster-fuck of epic proportions,” Emma said. “Ruth, get down in the floorboard, now! No matter what, we keep her safe, right?”

  When Moore didn’t respond, Emma prompted him. “Right?”

  “Do you mind if we just get there in one piece?”

  Less than reassured with his waspish reply, Ruth nevertheless dove into the floorboard. The tight squeeze between the seats reassured her that they’d hold her safely in place as Moore wove between moving cars. Before she could take comfort from that idea, more automatic weapons fire slammed through the automobile. Windows shattered and someone shrieked in pain. Ruth thought it was Emma, but that didn’t prevent the marshal from returning fire. Ruth identified the sound of the semi-automatic pistol from the loud boom inside the car.

  The vehicle swung abruptly to the right before returning to the original path and Ruth held onto the front seat. She clamped her teeth closed to keep from throwing up on the floor from the unpredictable maneuvering.

  “There he goes,” Moore said in triumph. The gunfire ceased without warning.

  “Great job, Lyle.”

  Ruth stuck her head up and tentatively looked around. The motorcyclist lay sprawled in the middle of a construction zone. From what she could tell at a quick glance, Moore had side-swiped the assassin and rammed him into a barricade. No one else seemed to be in pursuit.

  “Is everyone okay?” Ruth asked. She peered over the seats to check without awaiting a reply. Moore didn’t appear injured. Emma nodded, but her paleness belied the truth.

  “Emma, are you hit?” Moore demanded.

  “I’m fine. What the hell was that? How did they know where we’d be?”

  Moore shook his head, but even Ruth knew the answer. Someone had leaked the information. Snake, a.k.a. Adder, seemed the obvious choice, but she couldn’t understand what he would gain by such an action.

  “Where are we going?”

  Emma glanced back at her and then at her partner. “Lyle?”

  “Back to the safe house.”

  “Is that such a good idea? If we do have an informant in our ranks, Carlotti’s people will know about the safe house.”

  “We don’t have a choice. We need to regroup and bind your wounds. There’ll be enough time for that before we bug out.”

  Ruth could see the indecision on Emma’s face, but after a moment she finally nodded in agreement. “All right, but you should slow down now. We don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves.”

  When Moore complied and stopped driving like a maniac, Ruth let out a sigh of relief. She was still worried about Emma, but at least she was fully aware and no one was currently shooting at them. Soon, the familiar confines of the safe house came into view. Ruth bailed out of the car as soon as it stopped. They didn’t have much time and she didn’t intend to be packing her toothbrush when Carlotti’s people rolled up in the front yard.

  She opened Emma’s door and gasped in dismay. A large pool of blood saturated Emma’s blouse on the right side of her abdomen. Ruth slipped an arm around Emma’s waist as she stumbled from the car.

  “Let me help you.”

  Emma didn’t argue. She leaned heavily on Ruth’s shoulders as they walked to the porch. Moore lingered behind and Ruth looked back over her shoulder to see what he was doing. He stood between the Ford’s open door and the seat, holding a cell phone to his lips.

  “What’s he doing?” she asked as they climbed the steps.

  “Checking in, probably calling for reinforcements.”

  “Is that safe? We don’t know who we can trust.”

  Ruth held Emma up as she opened the door. Once inside, she assisted Emma onto the sofa.

  “It’ll be fine. I’m sure he’s talking to our director.”

  “Okay. Is there a first-aid kit around here somewhere?” Ruth stood up just as Moore entered the house. He was quiet as he closed and locked the door.

  “Look in the bathroom under the cabinet,” Emma responded. She still held the gun in her hand and Ruth noticed how her grasp trembled.

  “Don’t bother,” Moore said. “You won’t need it.”

  “What the hell do you mean? She’s bleeding all over...” Ruth suddenly realized Moore was pointing his gun at them. “Dear God, is there no one we can trust?”

  “You can trust that I will shoot you if you move.”

  Emma stood slowly and Ruth held her breath as the gun moved toward her. Ruth noticed that she kept her own weapon at her side, but Emma’s finger was on the trigger. Emma stood up straight, putting on a brave face.

  “You were the leak,” Ruth said. “That explains why you hid out behind the steps while everyone else shot back.”

  “How much is Carlotti paying you, Lyle?”

  “A hell of a lot.”

  “So now what, you’re just going to kill us?”

  Emma sounded calm and Ruth envied her. No matter how many times she’d been in this situation lately, Ruth was just as terrified as that first moment on the cliffside. She took comfort in the fact that Emma was slowly inching closer to her former partner. She hoped Emma had a clear plan in mind because she’d already been shot once. Ruth desperately wished she had a weapon of her own. Remembering the wooden bar that held up the kitchen window, Ruth glanced toward it. She was a considerable distance away. Moore would shoot her long before she reached it.

  “Not my style, but I will if I have to,” Lyle replied. “Why don’t you sit back down and we’ll just wait for a while.”

  Emma made a noise of disbelief. “You called Carlotti.”

  “Yes, through his attorney, and his men will be here soon to make this all go away.”

  Ruth tried to think of some way to help Emma. She needed to provide a distraction so Emma could save their lives. Too bad Ruth wasn’t some kind of black belt. All she had was her wits. She just started talking, saying anything she could to make Moore pay attention to her.

  “Why don’t you just shoot us yourself? Or are you too much of a coward?
”

  Moore’s face reddened and he swung the pistol toward her. “You are such a pain in the ass. Why couldn’t you have just died in that alley? Then all of this would be over and I wouldn’t have to kill my partner.”

  “Some partner,” Ruth threw back at him, taking a step away from Emma and toward the kitchen. She was pleased that Moore followed her movement. “I should have known the minute I saw you. You never wanted to be here, never wanted to protect me. You were just waiting for the chance to take me out. Why should I believe that you’d hesitate for an instant to kill Emma?”

  Enraged, Moore extended his service weapon toward her and Ruth dove onto the kitchen floor. She cried out at the burning pain in her thigh. At the same time, a shot rang out from behind her. She thought Moore had shot her until she spotted his body lying on the living room rug. As she watched, Emma kicked the gun out of his hand.

  “Are you all right?”

  Ruth stood up slowly, testing the strength in her leg. “I’m fine. It’s an old injury. What about you?”

  Anguish ghosted over Emma’s face as she briefly considered Moore. When she looked up, the emotion had disappeared and she was all business. “We need to get out of here before Carlotti’s men show up.”

  Ruth rushed over to Emma and offered her an arm. Emma refused and told Ruth to collect Moore’s weapon. Depending on what happened, they might need it. She complied quickly, remembering to take the small pistol from his ankle holster. Ruth didn’t relish touching his dead body, but recognized the necessity. Once finished, she grabbed her bag and shoved her belongings inside. At the last second, Ruth remembered to go to the room Emma and Moore had switched off using. She had to check both go-bags she discovered on opposite sides of the bed to determine which one belonged to Emma. Once she’d located the correct bag, a brown rucksack, Ruth took time to find and stash all of Emma’s things before she hustled back out to the front.

  Emma was waiting beside the front door once Ruth finished. She pushed away clumsily from the wall and Ruth noticed the smear of blood she left on the sheetrock. Only then did Ruth remember that Emma had been limping earlier. Wearing dark slacks, it was difficult to tell for certain but Ruth thought a bullet must have grazed Emma’s leg during the alley shootout.