Godsend 6: All Jokes Aside (4 page)

Derrick kneeled down, pat-searched Jiang, and found the handgun.

Brian stood clear of the doorway but kept trying to peek inside. They all flinched when a singe gunshot shattered the storm door.

Derrick dragged Jiang all the way to the rear of the Suburban while Etceterra jumped to the porch on the left side of the door.

Brian, on the right side, looked at him then stuck an arm through the broken storm door and squeezed off four blind shots. Etceterra followed suit.

Silence.

Behind the Suburban, Derrick used one of his large black hands to slap wrinkles out of Jiang’s cheeks, the pressure forcing the Asian’s head to turn violently. “How many in the house?”

Jiang said, “Six. Lots of guns and ammunition.”

Derrick said, “I ask you for a number and you gave me extra information, so you’re probably lying.” He shoved the barrel of Jiang’s own gun down the front waistline of Jiang’s pants, next to the man’s testicles. “How many in the fuckin’ house?”

“Only two!” Jiang had never been so scared in his life.

Derrick yelled out to Brian. “Two shooters inside.”

Brian and Etceterra sent a few more shots through the storm door. Silence.

Then the henchmen returned fire, five shots.

Derrick began handcuffing Jiang with plasticuffs. “One more question, and if you don’t get this one right on the first try, I’ll hook your ass to the back of our truck. Between you and the two—” He paused when he heard more gunfire coming from inside. “Which one of you are giving the orders?’

Jiang said, “I am. They work for me.”

But now Derrick had more questions. “Where’s Kale McFarland?” “He’s still inside.”

“We heard gunshots when we got here. Is Kale dead?” Jiang hesitated. “Yes.”

Derrick yelled out, “Kale is dead, and this little muthafucka is the boss of the two in the house!” Then he said to Jiang, “I want you to stand up, get your ass out in the open, and tell your men to come out unarmed.”

Jiang followed the man’s orders. His hands were cuffed behind his back when he stood out in the open and said, “Gary, Tony, drop your weapons and come out. That’s an order!”

Then a single shot whistled through the storm door and caught Jiang in his upper-left shoulder, spinning him around and back to the ground again.

Derrick fired a couple shots through the front room window. He knew that the Asian man was no longer the boss now.

BRIAN TOLD ETCETERRA to pace-out three shots until he himself could clear Jiang out of the way.

Etceterra had no idea why Brian would give a damn about the Asian, but he fired a single shot.

Brian darted from the porch. When he reached Jiang he heard Etceterra fire another shot. Brian grabbed Jiang by the collar and began dragging his light ass toward the Yukon.

Derrick fired two more shots at the window as he ran toward the house and took Brian’s position on the porch. Brian opened the rear hatch of the Yukon while Jiang lay at his feet on the concrete driveway. Brian removed some covers then retrieved a plastic gasoline container filled with five gallons of gas. He dowsed Jiang with about a quart of gasoline then replaced the plastic container.

Jiang said, “Please, what are you going to do? I will pay you. I have much money.” The smell of gas all over him almost took his mind off the pain from the gunshot wound to his shoulder.

Brian heard another exchange of gunfire. “You’re the boss, and you’re gonna get your boys to come out.”

“But they no longer listening to me. What can I do? They are the ones who shot me.”

“Get your ass up.” They walked up front and Brian opened the driver’s door. He leaned inside and retrieved a cigarette lighter from the console. He showed it to Jiang. “See this? I’mma get you close to that front porch and set your ass on fire. If you’re smart, you’ll run inside the house. Stay out here screaming like a sissy and I’mma let your ass burn up.”

“Please. No. If I run inside I’ll either be shot or still burn badly.” “You might be right. Then again, you might be able to put the fire out inside. Maybe you can run to the shower. Maybe you can stop, drop and roll. I don’t give a fuck. Your boys shot at me, and it looks like you tried to ambush me. At least you got a chance inside; your ass gonna be Chinese-fried rice if you stay out here with us.”

“Please—” More gunshots. “Two million dollars in cash. I take you to the money today. No banks. All cash. Please.”

Brian rushed to the rear of the SUV again and quickly returned with an AK-47 assault rifle. “I’ll cut your fuckin’ ankles off if you don’t run up in the house when I light you up.” Then he yelled out to Derrick and Etceterra, “Buy me enough time to get this muthafucka to the porch, and make sure you clear the way when he come through! He’s going inside!” When Brian saw his trainees start shooting again, he urged Jiang toward the house at a hurried pace.

Jiang thought his heart would shut down any second now. He wanted to run in another direction, knowing the AK would rip him down, and then he’d still get set afire with no legs to run on. Running for the shower in the big house was probably better for him.

When they reached the steps Brian flicked the lighter, reached out, and set Jiang’s clothes on fire without even touching him. “Get back!” he shouted to his trainees.

Jiang hollered as he became a human fireball. He jumped to the porch and darted through the frame of the broken storm door.

Brian said, “Take cover and watch the front.” Then, he dashed off the porch and ran toward the back of the two-story home.

YELLING AND SCREAMING and shouting something unintelligible was simply a natural response to the unbearable pain cause by an intense fire. Jiang never made it past the large front room. His henchmen peeked from the dining room and witnessed his twirling around and kicking.

Suddenly Jiang fell against the arm of a velvet sofa, crippled by a heart attack, then dropped to the plush carpet. The fire in the front room was spreading fast, and Jiang seemed to be steadily melting now.

It was a shocking sight, even for the violent henchmen. Tony, the big one, said,

“Cops wouldn’t do something like that. Surrendering to those guys is out of the question. Our ammo is low, and this whole house will be in flames in no time.” The velvet material was producing a thick smoke that would soon force them out of the house.

Gary coughed once and said, “We have to leave the truck and run for the mountains.” He ran for the back door, and Tony followed him. The back door was at the end of the kitchen. Gary unlocked it, peeked outside, and then made a run for it with Tony on his heels.

Brian waited a few seconds more then stepped into view from the side of the house. He aimed the AK-47 waist-down at the runners and sprayed three short bursts of rounds, cutting them down. He could hear his trainees running to assist him. Brian cautiously walked up to the two white men who were on the ground writhing in pain. “Release those guns if you wanna live.” He noticed the blood all over their pants.

Derrick and Etceterra picked up the firearms and stood over the helpless men who were moaning and clinching their hands.

Brian squatted and said to Tony, “Why was Kale killed?”

Tony struggled but managed to say, “He . . . witnessed a . . . murder.” Brian was disappointed. Kale McFarland was the last person to talk with Ramona Hartley before she went missing. They had spoken in a bar, and Brian was wondering whether Kale would have changed the story he’d given to police three years ago. He said to the men, “I’m not calling for help. You wanna bleed to death in pain or get put out of your misery?”

Tony said, “Could you . . . get a message . . . to . . . my wife and . . . daughter?’

“Nope. You shoulda stayed your stupid ass at home with them instead of fuckin’ up my $75,000 case.” He turned to Gary and said, “Bleed to death or out quickly?”

Gary said, “If you let me live and get me to the hospital, I’ll tell you . . . how to get to lots of money put away by Mr. Wok.” Derrick said, “Who’s Wok, the flaming hot Chinaman?” “Yeah.”

Brian said, “If the money isn’t with you right now, we decline your invitation to a setup or for more risks.” He looked back at the smoky house and imagined that the flames were visible from the front. “One to the head, both of them,” he said to his trainees as he stood again and backed away.

Derrick shot Tony in the head; Etceterra shot Gary in the head.

Brian said, “Let’s get out of here before that smoke draws attention.”

LAKE TAHOE, arguably the most beautiful lake on earth, is uniquely situated between the states of California and Nevada. Three different highways come together to completely encircle the huge lake, and do so with spectacular scenery for seventy-two miles. Even the economical motels, mundane establishment, and unexciting strip malls do not take away from Lake Tahoe’s beauty.

In the city of South Lake Tahoe, California, Echo and Kiandra sat in Brian’s Durango, backed up in the lot of a ski resort. They both had binoculars and were watching Room 241 of the Tahoe Grove Inn, which was almost three hundred yards away. The snow was blinding white at two in the afternoon, but their view was great with the binoculars.

Echo said, “I like this place. The only thing fucked up about it is we have to ride around with tire chains all the time.”

She said, “I’ve been in Cali all my life and never been here. There’s a lot of beautiful things about Cali that I never saw.”

“All that damn money I paid for our room on the other side of town, you think I can see your ass naked again in Cali?’

She pulled the binoculars down from her eyes and looked at him. “Do you ever think about anything other than sex?”

“You got good pussy. Accept the compliment. And if you was just pretending to like it, you need to be in Hollywood.”

“Hey, it was good. You certainly know what you’re doing, but I don’t want to like fuckin’ with men again.”

Echo said, “So we’re gonna spend the night in a room with a sexy lakeside view and not even fuck?”

“Come on now Echo. We had an agreement. We did everything you wanted to do, twice that night, more than two hours. You get another night with me and my girlfriend, but that’s it. Now if you wanna fuck tonight, then I won’t owe you any pussy later with my girl.”

Echo looked at her then leaned over and tongue-kissed her. After a few seconds, he pulled back and said, “As soon as your sexy-ass want another favor, its gone cost you five more fucks.”

She smiled and shook her head. “You’re a straight-up sex fiend.” He looked through his binoculars again. “Well I guess we’ll go to our room and watch some boring-ass TV and come back later when it gets dark.” He tossed the binoculars to the back seat then slipped the SUV’s gear into Drive.

She said, “I can’t wait to kill Breno.”

Echo threw the gear back into Park. “Whoa! Whoa! You never said nothing about killing the man for raping you.”

“What the hell you expected, Echo? I didn’t call the police; what else could I do to get justice?”

“I don’t know . . . I thought we was gonna cripple him and his boys or something. I . . . I . . . can’t have murder on my conscience.”

“Echo, you’re full of shit. You knew fuckin’ well I wanted to kill Breno. Why would I fuck him up and have him look for me later?’

He said, “I told you I would help you get him. Did you hear me specifically say we would kill him or murder him or slay him, eliminate, assassinate, whatever? Just because you saw me shoot a muthafucka in the leg don’t mean I’m a killer. We have to go back to Southern Cali.”

She sighed. “So we just fucked for nothing. I got raped all over again, the friendly version.”

“I can either give you a couple dollars or keep my word and help you get Breno, but I’m talking about a serious assault.” boys?”

“And what do I have to do for you to help me kill him and his

“What?” Echo shook his head. “Three murders? If I’m gonna let you lock me out of Heaven, that’s worth about . . . I don’t know . . . twenty-five fucks. Oh, and ten additionals with you and your girlfriend.”

She smiled then started laughing. “I like you but I don’t like you. Do you understand that?”

“I wanna fuck you and I wanna fuck you. You understand that? I wanna fuck you until we lose count, ‘cause then thirty-five times ain’t nothing but a number,” he said. “We got a deal?”

She stalled, knowing damn well she would agree. The sex with Echo wasn’t bad. It was actually good to her; she just didn’t want it to be. “Come on, let’s go get one fuck out of the way.”

Echo threw the SUV back in Drive again and said, “You got anybody else you wanna kill after we smash Breno and his boys? I wouldn’t mind having about five hundred fucks in the bank with you.”

AT 6:35 THE NEXT MORNING, Travis Jensen left his motel room dressed for the winter weather in South Lake Tahoe. Beneath his thick coat he was strapped with a semi-automatic handgun. A 25-year-old black man in jeans, Timberland boots, and a fitted cap. Not that any could be seen at the moment, but Travis had gang-related tattoos all over his arms, chest, back and stomach. He was particularly proud of the