Deadly Enterprise

by Kevin G Chapman

Eddie had stopped listening as something Mike said sank into his brain. “Sister’s killers? Are you fucking kidding me? This bitch is the sister?” he shouted. Then he turned to Darren. “And how did you know her name?”

  Magnan said, “I’m going to solve this problem right now,” and reached for the gun on the desk.

  “Stop!” Darren shouted.

  Magnan grabbed Bruno’s gun with his left hand, still pointing his own at Mike with his right. He looked at Curran, whose eyes were wide and whose brow was sweaty. Magnan saw the desperate expression on Darren’s face and smiled. “Or what, Curran? You going to shoot me?” Magnan raised Bruno’s gun.

  The room exploded with the sound of the gunshot. Magnan screamed in pain and crumpled to the floor, Darren’s bullet having torn through his right hip and shattered his pelvis. A moment later, a second shot reverberated in the small space, making Steph cover her ears with her hands as she screamed. Darren was spun around by the impact of Eddie’s bullet in his right shoulder. His gun flew from his right hand and a searing pain ran down his arm.

  Mike lunged for Darren’s gun, while Jason threw himself toward Eddie. Before Eddie could re-aim, Jason collided with the smaller man’s knees, sending him toppling over as the two men became a tangle of arms and legs. Mike secured the fallen gun and rose to a kneeling position, taking aim at Eddie, but he had no clear shot. Eddie’s body was intertwined with Jason’s as the two men struggled on the floor. Then Mike heard a grunt and turned his head. He saw Magnan lying on his side on the floor, still holding a pistol in his right hand, pointed toward Mike.

  “Don’t!” Mike shouted, but Magnan just sneered and pulled the trigger.

  The flash of the muzzle came a split second before the deafening bang. Mike involuntarily closed his eyes, just as he saw the large shadow fall in front of him. Darren groaned as the bullet entered his chest cavity just north of his third rib, glanced off the bone, and deflected downward, exiting through his lower back. Darren slumped onto Mike’s legs just as Mike pulled off three shots toward Magnan, who rolled onto his back and lay still. A pool of blood formed on the carpet next to his torso.

  Mike looked up to see Jason pummeling Eddie’s face.

  Seeing that Jason had Eddie well under control, Mike turned back to Darren. He bent down and put his face next to Darren’s. He was listening for breathing, and got a grunt in his ear.

  Darren’s eyes opened as he sucked in a tortured breath and winced with the pain. He saw Mike’s face close to his, and moved his mouth, slowly at first. Then he croaked out his last words. “Take care . . . of . . . Marie.”

  Chapter 47 – Surprising Reunion

  FOR SEVERAL SECONDS, Mike sat on the floor with Darren’s lifeless head resting on his lap. He knew on a logical and conscious level what had just happened, but his brain refused to acknowledge it. He started working through the stages of grief, but got stuck immediately on denial. Maybe Darren was not actually dead – maybe he was just unconscious. If the paramedics got there quickly, maybe he could still be saved. He knew it was a fantasy, but it gave him something to focus on. Mike reached for a pillow from the nearby bed and gently rested Darren’s head on it. Jason had handcuffed Eddie to the leg of the desk, which hardly seemed necessary given the man’s extreme state of unconsciousness.

  Jason retrieved his cell phone, which Eddie had thrown onto the bed, and dialed 9-1-1. He asked for police and multiple ambulances to respond, noting that they had officers down. “We should have EMTs and backup here in a few minutes,” Jason said, panting slightly after expending his effort pummeling Eddie.

  Mike reached into his suit jacket and extracted a latex glove. After putting it on, he carefully picked up Magnan’s gun, a department-issued Glock, from where it had fallen on the floor. He stuffed it into his waist band, keeping Darren’s gun in his right hand. He also grabbed Bruno’s gun from Magnan’s dead hand and laid it on the bed, along with another glove for Jason, who had already acquired Eddie’s gun. Jason looked around for his own Glock, but couldn’t locate it. He donned the glove and put Bruno’s gun in his coat pocket. Mike looked in the corner of the room where Steph was huddled, looking more frightened than he could ever recall seeing anyone look. She was staring blankly forward, not focused on anything. “Steph!”

  She startled and turned her head quickly. “Nnnmmm,” was all she could manage to intone.

  “You’re alright,” Mike said in his soothing grandfather-cop voice. “We’re all going to be fine. We’re going to get you out of here in a minute.” Steph just sat on the floor, knees hugged up against her chest. She nodded several times, fighting to keep from crying. Mike suspected that the loud gunfire inside the enclosed space had damaged her ear drums, which were certainly not accustomed to such abuse.

  “Jason, let’s secure this location.”

  Jason got up, planting a last kick into the side of Eddie Goddel’s unconscious body. “What are we going to do with Steph?”

  “I’m thinking that we get her out the back before the cavalry arrives.”

  Jason looked at the frightened girl and nodded his head. “I agree, let’s get her home.”

  “Right. Go out into the hallway and make sure that security door is still open for our backup and the EMTs and prop open the door to this room so they can get in. And check the douchebag in the front hallway to make sure he’s still down.”

  Jason, who looked even more rumpled than when he had entered the building, walked towards the door. Mike reached for Steph’s hand, intending to help her to her feet, but his attention was diverted by the sound of a gunshot in the hallway. Mike stood up quickly and yelled out, “Jason, talk to me!”

  Jason’s faint voice came back, “Hostile in the hallway! Unknown location!”

  Mike turned back to Steph, then spun around quickly, scanning the room. He spotted an umbrella leaning against the wall in a crack of space next to the desk. He grabbed it and returned to Steph. “Listen, you will be safe here. That guy is out cold and handcuffed to the desk, but you take this,” he handed her the long black wand, with its steel tip, “and you smack him if he wakes up.” Steph nodded blankly and took the umbrella, which she held across her knees with both hands. She was shivering and Mike suspected that she was in shock, but he had few other options. He couldn’t give her a gun, and he needed to get out into the hallway to back up Jason.

  Mike sprang toward the doorway and peered out. Jason had grabbed a towel from the bathroom and stuffed it under the door to prop it open. Mike eased out into the doorway, keeping his back against the narrow wall of the doorway cut-out, holding Darren’s gun in front of him with his elbows pressed against his chest. He looked right and could see Jason in a similar posture, in a doorway across the hall. Mike could feel his heart pounding in his chest and took two quick breaths – in through his mouth, out through his nose – to steady himself. He made eye contact with Jason, who pointed toward the front door. Mike gave Jason a hand signal that he would lay down cover fire so that Jason could emerge from his sheltered spot and take a shot at their assailant.

  Mike darted across to the opposite side of the doorway and put his back against the wall there, giving him a better angle to shoot down the hall. He stuck his right arm awkwardly across his body, eased out to his left, and fired off five shots blindly down the corridor, spaced out about three seconds apart. The bullets were not designed to hit a target, but to encourage anybody down the hall to take cover. Mike stuck his head out after the second shot to get a look at his possible targets and to allow him to provide better cover fire for Jason.

  Mike waved a hand to Jason, who spun from his cover into the hallway, crouching down with Eddie’s gun extended in front of himself and scanning the space for their attacker. The hallway was deserted, the odor of gunpowder hanging in the air. Jason waved to Mike to fall in behind him. The two men advanced down the hallway, slowly, as they inspected each doorway while keeping their eyes on the end of the hall. Was it possible that their shooter or shooters had turned and
run out through the security door? Mike squinted forward and saw that the heavy metal door was still slightly ajar.

  When they were past the last doorway, both Mike and Jason snapped into shooting posture as they saw a flash of movement at the very corner of the hall, to the right of where Mike had left Bruno lying on the ground. The point of a shoulder peeked out, then a head and a torso lurched from behind the corner. Mike and Jason both opened fire, sending multiple bullets into the man. Mike exhausted his magazine and reached into his pocket for a spare, but immediately remembered that he did not have his own gun, or any spare ammunition. The man who had emerged from behind the corner had been blown backwards by the impact of the bullets and was now lying on his back on the floor. Mike took a few steps forward, then threw himself up against the right-hand wall and yelled out to Jason, “Dummy! That’s Bruno, not the shooter!”

  Mike motioned to Jason to move to the opposite wall, on the left, and forward, while Mike slid along the right wall toward the corner. Mike, who had extracted Magnan’s gun from his waist band, got to the edge and stopped. Jason stopped also, unable to see what was around the corner. Mike took a step back away from the wall and then, as quietly as he could manage, took off his jacket. He winced as pain shot through his left shoulder due to the awkward angle, but he clamped down on his jaw to avoid any sound seeping out. Then he took his jacket in his right arm and motioned to Jason that he was going to throw it. On a silent count of three, Mike whipped the jacket around the corner, drawing an immediate barrage of gunfire.

  At the moment the hidden shooter was putting four holes in Mike’s jacket, Jason moved forward like a panther, crouched, and fired three rounds, aiming low. The shooter let out a bellow of pain and rage and stumbled backwards, a bullet lodged in his left kneecap.

  Mike rushed around the corner and jumped on the man, while Jason came up behind, training his pistol on the fallen figure. Mike took the gun from the man’s hand and put a knee on his right arm, pinning him to the ground. Within seconds, Jason jumped in and put his knee into the man’s chest and pointed the gun at his head, shouting “Stay down!” The man’s face was contorted in pain as he lifted his head to look Jason squarely in the eye.

  Jason froze as recognition dawned on him. He had seen this man before. He was the bag man – the man known as “Ricky” to Luis Rosario and Manuel Hwong. He was the white guy who had entered the convenience store in Queens, along with a big guy named Bo. He was the guy whom Jason and Ray McMillian were trying to capture the day Ray was shot and killed.

  “No fucking way,” Jason said softly.

  “What?” Mike asked, as he patted down the man to make sure he didn’t have any hidden weapons.

  “This is Ricky the Runner.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “I’m not. This is the guy.”

  “Then,” Mike said, then hesitated, “this bastard is responsible for Ray.”

  Mike and Jason locked eyes. A siren blared in the distance, getting louder, as their backup and an ambulance approached the hotel. Mike got up, comfortable that Jason had the man fully pinned and that the blood spurting from his knee made him a non-threat.

  Mike turned his back to Jason and said, “I’m going to go get Steph out of here. Remember, Partner, I’ve got your back.” Mike then disappeared around the corner, back in the direction of room 108, leaving Jason to deal with Ricky. He hurried down the corridor, pushed open the door, then paused. His stomach turned a somersault. He would rather have faced a dozen drug dealers with guns than go back into that room and see Darren Curran’s dead body on the floor. But Steph was still in there, and he thought about how awful it was for her to be stuck with two dead guys and another one unconscious. She was just a scared teenager. He was a veteran cop. “Suck it up, Stoneman,” he whispered to himself. Then he forced himself forward into the room.

  The smell of death had not yet permeated the space, but the acrid, metallic stench of spilled blood was strong. Mike tried not to look at the bodies, and instead looked immediately into the corner, where he had last seen Steph. She had not moved in his absence; still huddled on the ground, her knees pulled up against her chest, braced by the black umbrella. She was still in a state of semi-shock, but when Mike looked at her and smiled a comforting smile, she dissolved into tears. Steph jumped to her feet and ran to Mike, throwing her arms around him and sobbing. Mike gave her a hug and then pushed her away and held her by the shoulders. He said sternly, “Listen to me, Steph. We need to get you out of here. Now! Follow me – we’re going out the back way. Darren came in that way, so there’s some kind of door back there. Can you get yourself back to Michelle’s place?”

  She nodded silently. Mike dug into his pocket and pulled out his money clip, peeling off two twenties and shoving them into Steph’s hand. Steph looked at him blankly, then shook her head slightly, as if breaking out of a trance. “Um, yeah, I think so.”

  “Then we need to go now,” Mike said, as soothingly as he could. “You go back to the Barclays Center and get a cab. Go to Michelle’s and I’ll meet you there a little later. You understand?” Steph nodded again, then Mike took her hand and helped her to her feet.

  Mike and Steph hurried towards the door and went out into the hallway without hesitation. They turned left and walked quickly to the far end of the hall. To their right, another hallway led to a dead end, so Mike turned left. There were windows now on their right, reflecting their images as they scuttled along. Mike made out a dim street light somewhere beyond the window, perhaps in an alley. When they rounded another corner, Mike stopped short, grabbed Steph by the arm, and pulled her back around the bend. He had seen people in the hallway.

  Mike drew his weapon and peered around the corner. He saw a door on the left side, halfway down the corridor. As he watched, three young women burst through the door, wearing an assortment of night clothes, robes, and winter coats. They turned left, ran down the hall, and exited on their right through another door with an EXIT sign glowing in red above it. When they had departed, Mike took Steph’s hand and pressed forward. Just as they reached the door on the left, which turned out to be a stairway, it suddenly opened again, this time for two more women and an older man. The man was wearing a heavy black overcoat. He had graying hair and rimless glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. He stopped as soon as he saw Mike with his drawn gun. He looked about ready to vomit, then put his hands up, while the women just stood and stared.

  Mike surmised that this guy was a john, here for a session with one of the ladies – or maybe with both of them. Mike lowered his gun and waved the three of them towards the exit door, then pushed Steph after them. When they got to the door, Mike stopped Steph so he could ensure that it was safe. When he opened the door, he saw the figure of a large man lying on the gravel, his hands bound behind his back. The man wasn’t moving. Mike smiled at Darren’s handiwork – neutralizing the guard at the back door. Then he looked at Steph. “Go. Get to Michelle as fast as you can.”

  Steph looked up at Mike with frightened eyes, but she seemed more herself after their trek down the hallway. “I won’t let you down, Mike,” she said, then gave him another quick hug and dashed for the door. Mike watched until she was safely outside, then turned and hurried back toward the front of the hotel.

  Ж Ж Ж

  Within a few minutes, the first patrol car and an EMT crew screeched up to the curb in front of the Alexander Hamilton Hotel, and their occupants spilled out and rushed toward the front door. Mike met them and advised the EMTs to head down to room 108 and to tend to the man on the floor with a pillow under his head first. Mike took his time leading in the officers. He banged on the big buzzer door three times with the flat of his hand, then pushed it open and led the officers to the spot where Jason was still kneeling on Ricky’s chest. The man’s face was bloodied and his head lolled to the right, his eyes closed. Jason got up and turned him over to the uniforms. He and Mike walked back to room 108, where the EMT crew was working on Eddie Goddel’s woun
ds as best they could, given that he was handcuffed to the desk. One paramedic was crouched down over Darren Curran’s prone form, but he was not working urgently. Mike caught his eye and the man shook his head.

  When three more uniformed officers came into the room, Jason told one of them that the key to the handcuffs was probably in Eddie’s pants pocket. He told the officers that the handcuffed man was a cop, but that he was also under arrest and they should treat him as a suspected killer. Mike motioned to Jason to leave the room with him, and they walked out into the hallway.

  The scene was now becoming chaotic as more officers and another EMT team scurried around the hotel, checking to make sure that nobody else needed medical attention and confirming that there were no more potential shooters. Mike handed one of the officers the plastic master key and suggested that she start clearing the building. The officer called for more backup and assembled a team to get started. Mike and Jason stood off to the side, watching the activity.

  “There will be a detective team sent in soon,” Mike observed.

  “I guess we should hang out until then,” Jason responded calmly.

  “So that guy, Ricky – looks like he’ll survive his gunshot, but he’ll probably need to do some rehab before he runs any more races, huh?”

  Jason looked at Mike and smiled, then said, “I guess so.”

  “You almost feel like it would have been a better outcome if the scumbag had been killed.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s better if the guy is available to be interrogated. Maybe the Feds can get him to flip on his bosses, or at least get some useful information from him.”

  “You’re probably right,” Mike agreed. “What was he doing here?”

  “Beats the Hell out of me, Mike.”

  “Maybe our guy, Eddie, will help us out on that one.”

  “You think he’ll rat out the Gallatas?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “If it’s the only way to save his ass from prison, he might. Bad cops don’t tend to do well on the inside.”