The Spirit Survives (26 page)

I sat up and looked at the unconscious man on the floor. He was not the big man who shot me, but I knew that I had to restrain him before he regained consciousness. I steadily pushed myself to my feet and looked around. I stumbled to the sink in the kitchen, wet a dishcloth and held it to my throbbing head. With my other hand, I splashed water on my face. I noticed a roll of grey duct tape lying on the counter. I steadied myself, picked it up and returned to the unconscious man and taped his hands behind him and taped his feet together. I took a long piece and connected the tape around his hands and his feet, basically hog tied him. I taped his mouth shut and walked back to the sink, filled a glass with water and drank it. I had to bandage my wound to stop the bleeding, so I went to the bathroom in the main bedroom. The only thing I could find was a clean washcloth. I took the cloth and moved back to the kitchen. I opened the cupboard and saw nothing that would help me. I opened another cabinet and found a bottle of vodka. This would have to do. I saturated the cloth with the vodka and pressed it to my head. The pain from the vodka coming in contact with raw flesh almost made me pass out. I braced myself against the counter until the dizziness passed. I picked up the duct tape again and wrapped it around my head, holding the vodka-saturated cloth in place over the wound. I secured the tape and walked to the sofa to sit down for a moment.
 

The full realization of what had happened hit me like a ton of bricks. The big man and Leah were gone and several other people had been in the room. I didn’t know if they went with the other people willingly or not. I vaguely recalled a female voice and at least one other male voice while I was semi-conscious, and I definitely remembered something about a plane and Chicago.

I heard noises and glanced in that direction. My captive was conscious and was struggling against the tape. His head was bleeding from the kick. I noticed something just to the left of him slightly hidden by the chair. I looked closer. My cell phone. I had dropped it after the big guy shot me. I picked it up and turned it on. There was one bar of power left. I decided to call Rex Herns. He was the only person I knew that I could trust.

“This is Herns speaking,” he answered.

“Rex, this is Ben Harris, I’ve got real problems here.”

“Ben, you’ve got more problems than you realize. I must question you about the two dead men on Lookout Mountain. I need to know how you were involved and exactly what happened? You could be facing charges here.”

“Rex, you have to trust me. They have Leah, and I was trying to rescue her. I was fearful to get you or the police involved and run the risk of getting her killed. I was waiting on the kidnapper to call me when the Russian grabbed me. He wanted to know what I saw on Lookout Mountain the day of the girl’s murder. The other man shot him and saved my life, but it cost him his own life. I can fill you in totally later, but now I’m in a bind.
 

“I was directed to the Residence Inn by the kidnapper and went to room 101 where I am now. Leah was here. The big man who killed the girl on the mountain shot me—fortunately it only grazed my head. Some other people came in, but when I regained consciousness they were gone with Leah and Lopez. They thought I was dead, and they left one man behind to clean up. I was able to subdue him, and I have him restrained here now. Can you come and let’s try to figure this out?”

“Damn Ben, what’s going on? What do they want with Leah? I’m amazed that you aren’t dead.”

“I don’t know what the hell is going on Rex, but I need your help.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Rex replied.

I opened the cabinet in the kitchen, retrieved a glass and filled it about half full of vodka and sat on the couch sipping it as I waited for Rex.

In exactly twenty minutes there was a knock on the door. I set my empty glass on the end table and went to answer it. The guy on the floor had stopped struggling, and he was just staring at me. I opened the door and Rex walked in, stopping in front of the hog-taped guy.
 

“This is the guy I was telling you about, Rex. I think he’s the clean-up man.”

Rex ripped the tape from the man’s mouth and asked him, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” The man just spit at him. Rex stepped back, the saliva missed him, and he merely put the duct tape back over the man’s mouth and cited him his Miranda rights. He turned him over, pulled his wallet from his back pocket and rifled through it until he found his driver’s license. “His name is Lon Esponsito,” Rex said, and turned to the man, “Mr. Esponsito, you’re under arrest for accessory to attempted murder.

“Listen Ben, I can’t let you off the hook this time. We need to go to the police station and sort this out. I’ll take charge of the investigation and have my guys in Chicago work with me on this. The Green Bay police have been very cooperative, and I’ll tell them that this is a part of my drug cartel investigation and that, as a former cop, you’re helping me. Furthermore, we need to get that head looked after. You look like shit.”

“I’m fine. I need to find out where Leah is.”

“The hell you say, you’re going to the emergency room.”

Rex called for a police car to pick up Lon Esponsito and informed them of the charges. He took a handful of paper towels from the kitchen and unceremoniously stuffed them in Esponsito’s ears. “I don’t want the bastard to hear what we’re saying,” he explained. “Now give me some details.”

While we were waiting for the car to arrive, I filled him in on the details on the killings of the Russian and my father. Rex listened intently and only interrupted a few times for clarifications.

I then related to him in detail the incidents surrounding the call to me and the events that led to me being in that motel room.

The police car arrived and two policemen rushed into the room. Rex took them to the side and explained to them what the charges were, and that he needed to take me to the emergency room. We left as the cops were taking Esponsito to the car to cart him off to jail.

Chapter 61

When Leah saw the big man shoot Ben, she felt as if her heart was ripped from her body. She was powerless as blood gushed from his head wound. With many days in captivity and trapped with the big man, her sanity was challenged. With Ben dead, she had nothing else to live for.

She felt numb as the woman dragged her to the vehicle and threw her in the back with the big man. Macy held a gun on them as Bastone drove. Leah scarcely listened to the voices in the front seat.

“Listen Macy,” the Italian man said, “Sergey dispatched a private plane to pick us up at the executive park at the airport. They’ll fly us to Chicago where a limo will take us to his condo. There we can deposit the girl and Lopez and collect our money. Regardless of what Lopez says, we must convince Sergey that Lopez was hired by both the Salazar cartel and the Flores cartel. That’s where you come in. You let him know that you work for the FBI, and that you have irrevocable evidence that both cartels were involved in his daughter’s murder. Can you pull that off?”

“That’s no problem, but how can I trust that he won’t out me to someone and get the FBI on my ass?”

“He’s going to kill Lopez and sell the girl. You’ll hold all the cards on him.”
 

“Okay,” Macy said.

 
“When we’ve finished with Sergey, I’ve rented a suite at the Presidential Towers and you can stay with me there,” Bastone said.

When they arrived at the private airport, a light rain was falling. The lights reflected from the wet airstrip where two men were standing in yellow rain slickers beside the extended steps to the jet. Both men were muscled and looked like body guards.
 

Bastone got out of the van and went over to talk to them while Macy held the gun on Leah and Bo. When the Italian returned, he said, “The Russian pilot said that we’ll be in the air in twenty minutes. Let’s get ‘em loaded.”

They hauled Leah and Bo out of the van and led them to the plane. The jet had a bench seat in the back with two individual passenger seats in front. Bastone put Leah and Bo on the back bench and secured them to the seat with seat belts. He then joined Macy in the passenger seats. He gave the pilot the okay and the plane taxied to the runway and was off.

It was a twenty minute plane ride to Chicago. The jet landed on a remote Chicago landing strip. The misting rain had stopped and there was a smell of fresh-cut grass in the air. The tarmac was wet with small puddles standing everywhere.
 

A black stretch limo waited with two Russians standing outside. They were both dressed in black suits, which didn’t conceal their muscles. Both had shaved heads and were very tall. The pilot lowered the steps and Bastone walked down first. He strolled to the waiting Russians and spoke to them. Macy left the plane next, and she instantly caught their attention. She had combed her long black hair, and it shimmered in the moonlight. She was wearing black pants and a white clinging cotton sweater, which highlighted her ample breasts. A shoulder holster was strapped around her with a pistol snapped in. To the Russians, that was sexy as hell.
 

After talking to Bastone, the two Russians entered the plane and fetched Leah and Bo. Leah was limp as they hauled her to the limo. With his hands taped, his ears plugged and his eyes taped shut, Bo offered little resistance. The men placed them in the back seat and held the door as Macy and Bastone got in and sat in the seat facing the prisoners.
 

Both Russians smiled as Macy passed them. It didn’t go unnoticed by her. For some time now she had used her sex to her advantage and that power over the Russians might come in handy. She brushed against one of the Russian’s arms as she entered the limo.
 

Few words were spoken as they drove to Sergey’s Condo. The chauffeur proceeded to the back of the building, and with the help of the other Russian, loaded the prisoners on the freight elevator. Undoubtedly Sergey had arranged for the area to be vacant. One of the men went with Bo and Leah on the elevator while the other driver took Macy and Bastone to the main entrance.
 

Macy slipped into a coat to conceal her shoulder holster and she and Bastone entered the building. They waited for the driver and when he emerged from parking the limo, they followed him to the elevator. He smiled at Macy again, and she provocatively returned the smile. The elevator purred to its stop and Bastone and Macy accompanied the driver to Sergey’s door. Sergey was standing there with the door open, and a glass of vodka in his hand. He was wearing a white silk shirt with an open collar and beige linen pants. He grinned, shook their hands, dismissed the driver, and invited them into his condo. While shaking Macy’s hand, he held it a little longer than normal. She looked straight into his eyes without flinching.

“Please have a seat in the living room,” Sergey said, “I need some more detailed information from you. Can I prepare you a drink?”
 

Macy smiled and replied, “I’ll have what you’re having, Sergey.”
 

Bastone just shook his head.
 

When they entered the living area, Macy walked over to the strange aquarium, “What kind of jellyfish is this, Sergey?” she asked. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is an Irukandji. Be careful, one bite and you won’t survive the hour,” Sergey said.
 

Macy lifted her eyebrow and walked to the couch and sat beside Bastone.

“I want to know the details of what happened,” Sergey said in a stone cold voice. “Don’t mince your words.”

Bastone began his report, “Bo Lopez and his partner
,
Cherokee Alverez, raped and killed your daughter. They are hired assassins, but we’ll get to that later. A man by the name of Ben Harris happened to witness the entire thing. I found out from my police contacts that it was Cherokee who actually raped your daughter, while Bo held her down, and I must tell you she fought hard. After the rape Bo shot her in the head.”
 

He hesitated when Sergey got up abruptly and walked to the bar, filled up his vodka glass and added ice. Sergey took a long pull then came back to the room and sat down again in the chair facing the couch.

Bastone continued, “A tornado hit Lookout Mountain the day of the murder and this man, Harris, and Cherokee were trapped in a cave. Harris survived but Cherokee did not. Bo Lopez knew that Harris had witnessed the murder so he had to make sure the man was dead before leaving Green Bay. He found out about Harris’s girlfriend and kidnapped her to try to get to Harris. He set up some kind of meeting, but it went wrong. When we busted into his room, Harris was on the floor dead and Bo was recovering from the fight. The girl was tied up in a chair and apparently saw everything. I left my cohort to clean up the mess with Harris and left immediately to bring Bo to you. Macy here has assisted me. She’s an FBI agent, but is on my payroll and you can trust her. We brought the girl to you to. She is sexy and sophisticated, and would probably bring top money in Saudi Arabia. We just ask for a small percentage of what you get for her. She’s apparently a broken woman, so a few drugs should eliminate her resistance.”

Sergey battled to control his rage. He was damn angry that Cherokee died. He wanted to make him suffer, but he did have Bo and his death would be very painful and slow. “Who hired them?”

“That’s the reason I brought Macy with me,” Bastone said. “She pulled strings in the Bureau and with her law enforcement contacts and found the answer. Why don’t you explain, Macy?” he asked.