by Sid Kar
“Joe, Frank here. Stay put and make no moves,” Frank said, “tell Clara to do the same. Keep behind tree cover at all times.”
“Frank…” Joe began to reply when Clara waved at him to throw her the radio. Joe tossed the radio to her feet and she picked it up. Shawn was moving to his right trying to get a diagonal angle at Joe and Clara. He too was running low on ammo and holding his fire waiting for the opportune moment.
“Frank are you in range to take him out?” Clara asked.
Frank estimated the range to Shawn to be around 700 feet and closing since he was moving in Frank’s direction. There had been better marksmen than him under his command, but Frank was fairly accurate out to about 1,000 feet. The only question was of having him in the sight now.
“Range, yes. Sight, no,” Frank replied, “Shawn is good. He is moving steadily and carefully keeping behind trees and bushes.”
“Frank get ready,” Clara said, “I am going to reveal him.”
“No Clara! That is too risky…”
But Frank could see that Clara had made up her mind, tossed the radio back to Joe and was getting ready for a run.
“Goddamn it, Clara…” Frank muttered. He got ready and aimed his rifle in the general direction of Shawn who was still hidden behind a thick bark and dense branches.
Clara darted out from her position and ran to her right while firing three shots out of her pistol in Shawn’s direction. Those were her last bullets and she dove to reach the cover of another tree trunk. Her bullets went wide and completely missed.
Shawn saw his opportunity. He abandoned his cover and aimed his rifle at Clara and fired a shot that went over her just as she hit the ground and rolled over.
Frank quickly went to his knee, aimed his rifle at Shawn’s temple, estimated the wind speed and the elevation and pulled the trigger.
The shot struck dirt right behind Shawn’s boot. He quickly turned his neck and then his entire body as he aimed his rifle right back at Frank.
Both of them were out in the open.
Frank dare not miss now. He had underestimated both the elevation and the draft. He made a very subtle adjustment to his aim with the gentlest of the touch and fired again just as Shawn was about to pull his own trigger.
The bullet hit Shawn right in the chest, lifted him off the ground and threw him back two feet.
Clara and Joe reached there first.
“Boy is dead,” Joe said.
“Clara, you did not have to do that,” Frank said.
“I owed you one, after I botched your chance of getting testimony from Panther,” Clara said.
“No…no,” Frank said, “you didn’t.”
Then they heard the sirens.
“All units near Applewood Forest, this is Detective Frank,” Frank transmitted over his radio, “the shooters are dead. I repeat the shooters are dead. Do not come in guns blazing.”
“Acknowledged,” a voice answered over the radio, “how do we know you are…”
“Dispatch can confirm my voice,” Frank said.
“It is our Frank,” Dispatch chimed in, “Detective, do you need medical?”
Frank looked at Joe and Clara but both of them shook their heads.
“Negative for us, but we do have two dead bodies,” Frank replied.
Frank knelt down over Shawn and searched his pockets but came out empty.
“Nothing?” Clara asked.
“They are pros,” Frank replied, “they take certain precautions at all times.”
Frank walked all the way over to Kyle’s body but first picked up his phone along the way. He saw four local police department deputies come running. Only one of them was carrying a rifle, another held a shotgun, two others brought along pistols.
“You took care of them, huh?” one of the deputies asked.
“You bet,” Frank replied emptying Kyle’s pockets. All he found was a car key which he pocketed.
“State police will be handling this?” the deputy asked.
“You bet that too,” Frank replied, “you give us help keeping away any civilians — hunters, hikers and campers.”
“Don’t worry. No one comes around here,” the same deputy replied, “this area seeps with oil and polluting chemicals.”
“How long it has been like this?” Frank asked.
“Been like this since I was a kid, hell since my pa was a kid,” an older deputy said.
“Alright, go get the yellow tape,” Frank said. Three of the deputies turned around and started walking back. One of them stayed behind. He was a young kid, perhaps 19 or 20, hired right out of high school.
“Say, officer. I want to join the State Police. Could you get me in?” the young deputy asked.
“Suuure…no problem,” Frank replied. Then he pointed to Joe who was walking up to him along with Clara, “see that officer over there. He is the finest policeman in the whole of state police. His word is gold. Superintendent consults him on all matters. Governor calls his cell. Ask him to write you a recommendation, and you’re a shoe in.”
“Oh wow…” the wild eyed deputy replied.
“Yep, just bring a marker and a shiny, bright color paper for him to write on,” Frank replied.
“Will do, will do,” a smiled beamed on his face and he ran back to join his mates. He failed to notice the beginning of a guffaw that rumbled out of Frank.
“That’s not nice, Frank,” Clara said.
“Frank’s got a sense of humor,” Joe smiled.
“Laughter’s one way to kick the adrenaline back down,” Frank said, “I have had equally vicious men aim and fire Kalashnikovs at me. It gave me nights full of sweats. I don’t want that again.”
“Fine…but you better set it right with that kid,” Clara said.
“Alright…” Frank sighed.
“Frank…no more boys night out and boys wild shouts after your wedding,” Joe laughed.
“Joe!” Clara said.
“Let’s see what those boys were trying to dig out,” Frank said, “perhaps same as us.”
“I think you are right Frank,” Clara said while they walked back to the site where they had dropped the shovels and where the whole gunfight had begun.
“About what?” Frank asked.
“About there being a dead body and not dangerous chemicals here,” Clara said, “those two men were sent by Dunlap right?”
“I believe so…” Frank replied.
“And Dunlap knows what’s buried underneath here and where because he presumably buried it?” Clara said.
“Right.”
“He sent them with just common shovels, not with some protective chem suits, which I am sure he has a ton of in his refinery,” Clara said.
“That’s a good point,” Frank said.
Frank, Clara and Joe reached the spot where they had dropped their shovels. They all picked up one each with Clara taking one of Shawn’s after Frank gave her gloves to avoid leaving her prints. They strolled over to the wooden sign board.
“Stay Away…” Clara read it out again, “where do we start digging?”
“Be a whole day to dig out even twenty feet all around,” Joe said, “why don’t we ask the locals for a hand. I sure will write that boy a recommendation if he shovels with us.”
“Let’s be smart here, not try to brute force our way,” Frank said, “if Dunlap, Adam and whoever else was with them, saw a witness, they certainly didn’t plan for it. They would have had to improvise, act fast, dig a makeshift grave.”
Frank walked around the board striking the ground with the handle of the shovel. He tapped with his foot on different spots.
“If you are in a hurry…where would you stick a sign like this?” Frank wondered.
“Right on the grave,” Joe said.
“Exactly,” Frank said stomping the ground with his shovel, “even with a sign like this some people will care less and wander around. Tramps, drunks, kids smoking weed…but very unlikely someone would move the board itself.”
They dug for over an hour and were joined in by some of the local police officers whose numbers had increased to eight. Two state troopers who had stopped by from patrolling the highway also had shovels in their cars and lent their hand.
After they had dug up holes three and four feet deep all around the sign, one of the trooper’s shovel struck a hard object and the handle bounced back into his chest.
“Stop!” Frank yelled. The two troopers digging the hole four feet in front of the sign board stepped back. Frank put on his gloves.
He lay down flat on the dirt just outside the hole and then slowly crawled down into it. The trooper pointed at the exact spot with his shovel where he had hit a solid object and Frank slowly pushed aside the dirt with his palms. The object felt solid to his hand and then suddenly Frank’s fingers slipped down into the object. He quickly yanked his hands out and pulled himself out of the hole.
“What is it Frank?” Joe asked.
“Eye sockets,” Frank said, “That has to be a skull.”
Everyone started murmuring the next moment. Clara came and stood next to Frank.
“Shall we dig it out?” a trooper asked.
“I don’t want to dig more and disturb what is most certainly a crime scene,” Frank said, “I am going to call it in. We need pros for this job.”
“We should at least verify it’s a human skull,” Clara said, “I have a face brush in my bag and I have a gentle touch.”
Frank was reminded of Clara’s touch from last night and a half smile attempted to cross his lips but he clenched his jaw and banished the smile. This was not the time to think of…
“Go ahead then,” Frank said.
Clara retrieved her makeup bag from his car and took out a small brush of half an inch diameter. Frank gave her his gloves and she lowered herself carefully in the hole. As everyone watched from above she cleared the dirt with soft strokes of the bristles. Fifteen minutes later a human skull stared straight back at them.
“That’s it,” Frank said taking out his cell phone, “I am going to call the Forensics Anthropology folks. They will do the excavation and transportation of the skull and the bones.”
Frank lowered his hand to Clara and pulled her out of the hole. Clara walked away a distance feeling sick. While working she had managed to ignore what lay in front of her but now nausea had come over. Meanwhile Frank made a call to the anthropology lab and then he turned to the two state troopers.
“I am going to have to cut your road patrols short today,” Frank said, “I need one of you to watch over this site till our folks get here. And I need the other to fetch a truck out here and have that Blue SUV towed to the headquarters.”
“Will do,” one of the troopers replied.
Frank took Clara’s hand and they walked back to the Clearing where they had parked the car. Joe, one state trooper and the locals followed them. Clara went and sat in the passenger seat but left the door open as she stared down on the ground slowly recovering.
Frank walked over to the SUV and tried the key he had found on Kyle. The driver’s side door opened. Frank hit a button inside to unlock all the doors. Frank and Joe walked around opening all the doors, the hood and the trunk.
“Them must be twenty mags,” Joe said after lifting open the trunk. The 30 round mags for G36 rifle were scattered on the floor. There was also a heap of protective suits.
“They got chem suits too,” Clara said walking over.
“Feeling better?” Frank asked.
“Yeah,” She nodded affirmatively but silently
“Look much thicker and better than what I remember from my chem warfare training in the Army,” Frank shrugged, “Oh well. We had to make do with what the Army could buy from taxpayer’s money. Dunlap’s company can easily afford the latest top grade suits.”
“But this is strange, no?” Clara asked, “why have these if you are not…”
“No, not strange at all,” Frank said, “look how they are piled on top of each other like dirty laundry. This is the company’s utility vehicle that Dunlap loaned out to them. These suits probably just sit here, in case.”
“What about the car’s papers?” Clara asked.
“That’s what I was going to check next,” Frank said and walked over to the passenger side and opened the glove compartment. There was registration and insurance but no license.
“Car’s registered to Dunlap’s Grand North Petro co. same as the insurance,” Frank said.
“Then we got him,” Clara said but neither Frank nor Joe were smiling.
“He will claim it was stolen,” Joe said.
“Run the license plates of this SUV for me, please,” Frank said to the state trooper. The trooper wrote down the plate number in his diary and walked back to his car.
“Panther using his warehouse…mercenaries using his company’s car, doesn’t all this amount to something?” Clara asked.
“Not in the court, it doesn’t,” Frank said, “If anything his high priced lawyers will use it to his advantage by putting forth the story that Dunlap has a target painted on him. Put it in the newspapers, generate public sympathy with the hopes that if he ever goes to trial, the jury will look at him sympathetically as a man who lived with threats to his life.”
“They would do that? You know a lot about what their lawyers…” Clara said then stopped with realization.
“Of course I do. You forget what my dad does?” Frank laughed, “he tells me, ‘Frank, always remember a good lawyer doesn’t wait for trial to prepare his client’s case.’ And I turn to him and say, ‘Father, a good solider doesn’t wait for his enemy to draw his gun to cap his ass. So off with your useless nuggets of wisdom.’”
Joe and the local cops standing around guffawed loudly. Their laugher was cut short when the state trooper walked back.
“Ran the plates, detective. The car was reported stolen a few days back,” the trooper said.
Clara was disappointed.
“Dunlap is clever,” Frank said, “report it stolen, then let the Renegade Squadron use it to its heart’s content. If they get caught, he can wash his hands of it.”
“But what if it was sighted in his refinery complex?” Clara asked.
“Call it a mistake,” Frank shrugged, “Dunlap is the largest employer and biggest taxpayer of his town. The local PD isn’t going to make fuss about stuff like this.”
Frank, Clara and Joe got back in his car. Frank flipped his phone behind the cup holder and put the car in drive. He noticed a missed call.
“Oh damn…Captain Arthur called,” Frank said picking up his phone.
“He working today?” Joe asked.
“Apparently,” Frank replied and dialed back Arthur’s office.
“Hey, Frank, I heard your new CIA girlfriend saved your ass from the assassin,” Arthur laughed.
Frank turned around to look at Joe. Arthur’s voice was coming loud enough to be audible to the whole car.
“All I said to folks was you didn’t prefer to bunk with a fat ass like me last night,” Joe giggled.
“I heard that, Joe,” Arthur said, “anyways, Frank, good job closing down Adam’s case. But you still got these mysterious trigger happy yahoos after you.”
“Captain, these gunmen maybe related to Adam’s case. I am not ready to call it shut yet,” Frank said.
“We shall see, but you are certain that the killer in the warehouse was behind Adam’s murder?” Arthur asked.
“Any news from the ballistics?” Frank asked.
“His pistol is a match for the bullet that killed Adam,” Arthur said.
“Then I will sign off on him as the perpetrator,” Frank said.
“Very good,” Arthur said, “then I didn’t act hastily.”
“What, you officially closed the case?” Frank asked.
“No, I would not deprive you of the joy of the paper work,” Arthur laughed, “I
just signed the release for Adam’s body.”
“WHAT!” Frank almost jumped ahead but his seat belt pulled him back, “You did what?”
“His daughter, Laura, stopped by earlier. She wanted to make funeral arrangements,” Arthur said, “and it has been over a week. Autopsy is done, killer is identified and dead.”
“Frank, she ain’t going to look inside his skull,” Joe whispered a chuckle.
“When is she going to pick it up?” Frank asked.
“You know the hours. It can be released to her custody or her appointed undertaker’s care anytime after 3:00 on Saturdays,” Arthur said.
“Oh no…I wanted to take a last look,” Frank said.
“Better get here before 3:00 then,” Arthur said and ended the call.
“Frank we will make it there easily, not much traffic on Saturday,” Clara said.
“That was just a ruse,” Frank said, “we have to get the brain back. Dr. Evan or his assistant will do a final check before the release. If word gets out of what we are doing there will be bedlam.”
Frank reversed the car till it was facing the dirt road and then hit the gas pedal. He drove without care to the bumps and the jerks they received on their way out.
Frank turned on the lights and the sirens as they neared the highway and made a sharp left turn on Route 80 East then abruptly stomped the break and the three of them were jerked forward with a loud gurgle coming out of Joe.
“Frank, what are you doing?” Clara asked.
“Look at that sign,” Frank pointed out Joe’s window at the road sign with the words ‘Applewood Forest’ with an arrow pointing to the left towards the dirt road they had come from. “It’s just a sign,” Clara said.
“But this one has the word ‘Forest’ in it, what Friedrich had mentioned,” Frank said, “the one from 80 West doesn’t.”
“And…” Clara said.
“He said he saw Adam turning back the tanker, I thought he meant from the Clearing,” Frank said, “he could have gone ahead and turned around on the road. Wonder why he would do that?”
“I don’t think there is much anything there,” Clara replied, “Could have missed the turn. It’s a dirt road after all. Why don’t you call and ask?”