Wrong Town: A Mark Landry Novel (24 page)
Read Wrong Town: A Mark Landry Novel Online
Authors: Randall H Miller
King Heavy’s days as a Latin King had been over since the moment he decided to steal from the nation. The Supreme Inca, King C., was not stupid. If he hadn’t figured it out by now, he would soon enough, and then he’d have no choice but to issue a T.O.S. order—find King Heavy and Terminate on Sight. If he didn’t, the rest of the Supreme Council would smell weakness and he’d have a civil war on his hands. Hector was far beyond the point of no return.
He pulled up his pants and returned to the flimsy card table to finish counting the money while his girlfriend Lourdes cleaned up in the bathroom.
“Baby, I told you not to come inside me. I don’t need no more babies. Why don’t you ever listen to me?” asked Lourdes from the bathroom.
He ignored her and continued counting the large stacks of cash spread out in front of him.
Seventeen thousand. Eighteen thousand. Nineteen...
“Did you hear me? Hector, did you hear me? I asked you a question.”
He tossed a small baggy of heroin in her direction without looking and continued counting but then lost his place. “Yeah, I fucking heard you but I’m busy right now. Can you just shut up until I’m finished? This is for us, baby. This is our future right here. I’m gonna double this shit. Add that to the rest of what we got and we’ll be set for a long time. But you gotta let me work.”
She was already snorting by the time he completed his sentence.
When he had finished counting the cash, he organized it into bundles and stacked them neatly in a red backpack. A loaded Glock 17 9mm with a round in the chamber occupied the front compartment.
Pulling the cheap curtains open just enough to peer out the second-story window onto the street below, he saw nothing to cause alarm. Two schoolchildren with backpacks and lunchboxes stepped over a junkie who had collapsed on the sidewalk. The occasional car passed by. Loud music could be heard from several directions.
I’ll switch shitholes again tonight just in case.
“Let’s go through this one more time so we’re absolutely clear on what you need to do tonight,” Hector said, turning to Lourdes who sat on the edge of the bed with her eyes closed.
He crossed the room, kneeled down in front of her, and slapped her firmly across the face. “Listen up, Lourdes! Pay attention. This is important, okay? Get your shit together.”
“I’m listening, Hector. Stop hitting me!” she exclaimed, snapping out of her drug-induced funk. “Just stop hitting me. I’m here. I’m listening. What?”
“Let’s go through it one more time. You’ll be on the balcony with one of the gringos and I’ll be with the car on the street below. Once they put the stuff in my trunk, I’ll give you the sign so you know to give him the money. After that, I’ll drive away and you get the hell out of there. Don’t go straight home, though. Take your time and make sure there ain’t nobody following you. When you get home, stay there until you hear from me. It’ll be at least a few days, maybe even a week or two, but just sit tight and don’t talk to nobody. When I can, I’ll let you know where I am so you can bring me my shit, right?”
“I ain’t stupid, Hector. I know what to do.”
He raised his hand to slap her again but quickly pulled it back. He still needed her.
“Remember, there’s three bags of money inside the wall in your bathroom, but all you gotta do is hit it with a hammer a little bit and that shitty drywall will come off easy. You bring those bags to me and we disappear together, baby. This is what we’ve always wanted and it’s almost here—just a little bit of business left to do. But I need you to keep your shit together and focus. You want this, don’t you?”
She nodded drowsily.
“Yeah, but I want some respect too, Hector. Why you always gotta be treating me like this? When you’re not fucking me, you’re hitting me. I’ve never met any of your friends or family. You’ve never taken me out anywhere, like you’re ashamed of me or something. I love you, Heavy. But I gotta know things are gonna be different when all this is done. It’s like you’re using me. And what are they gonna be putting in your trunk anyway?”
“I ain’t gonna tell you that, because I want to protect you, baby. You see what I’m saying? Everything I’m doing is for us, but you gotta trust me. And I promise things will be better when this is all done. Less stress, right? It’s the stress that’s making me do that shit to you—it ain’t me, baby. If I didn’t respect you, why would I trust you with some of my money?”
He reached for the baggy of cocaine in his pocket, used a matchstick to scoop out a line, and held it up to her nostril. She sniffed quick and hard. The same ritual was repeated with the other nostril. After a few moments, her eyes rolled back in her head and Hector’s smile turned to a psychopathic scowl.
“You know I respect you, baby. Let me show you how much.”
Hector rose to his feet and slowly reached for the button at the top of his pants.
“I always knew the kid was a loser like his old man, but I never thought for a second he had that in him,” remarked Andy as he threw another bag of fertilizer into his cart. “I’m so glad she’s okay.”
Mark walked down the hardware store aisle next to his friend and thought out loud.
“I’m worried about her. She can’t compartmentalize things. She just keeps playing the highlight reel over and over in her head and second-guessing herself, and she won’t leave the house. It’s a recipe for disaster.”
“I can only imagine. The kid gave her no choice, but that doesn’t make it any easier to pull the trigger. What about you? How do you get past it after all these years? Can’t you share some of that stuff with her so she has something to relate to?” asked Andy.
“Not really. In my line of work, we serve and protect a little differently. And she thinks I’m bulletproof anyway. So I just listen, but that makes me feel useless.”
“So you’re not bulletproof?”
“No. Definitely not.”
Both men paid for their purchases and left the store.
“I don’t know what to do. I guess wait it out, but it kills me to see her like this,” Mark shared.
“I know it does. Just give her some time. I’ve told you before, Luci is an extraordinary woman. She’ll figure it out. Here’s the thing too—I don’t know a whole lot about your career, but I’m guessing you’ve never had to stay around very long after pulling the trigger. That makes compartmentalizing a little easier, right?”
Mark was taken aback at the perceptive observation and nodded in agreement. “That’s true. You’re right. She just needs time.”
“And if she’s up for getting out of the house tomorrow, bring her to my Veterans Salute at Founders Field. I promise it’ll be an event to remember,” Andy offered as they parted.
Senator McDermott shook with anxiety. “Who do you think is sending me this stuff?” she asked.
“No idea,” Meghan answered as she paused the video. “But whoever it is, they’re risking their life.”
This time the envelope contained a single thumb drive with undated video of an interrogation. The interrogator was masked and the lighting was poor, but the sheer brutality of the scene was painfully clear—vicious torture by any definition. The audio dropped in and out of the video. When it was audible, two men spoke mostly in English with occasional exchanges in German, all muffled and difficult to follow.
“This is over the top,” declared Meghan. “I feel like I’m going to be sick. What are we going to do with this?”
The Senator paced the family room. “Do with what? No note. No explanation. We don’t even know what this is. Who are these men? Where are they from? Where did this take place? We can’t even tell what they’re talking about. It looks real to me but …”
“It looks real? For God’s sake, he’s missing an ear and bleeding like mad! He’s missing a fucking ear!” exclaimed Meghan.
“I can see that, Meghan, but we don’t know anything about this. Someone could be setting us up. Let’s say we share this—then what? How many questions would we be able to answer?”
“None,” Meghan uttered. “I say we move and don’t tell anyone where we live. Can’t you get us into the witness protection program or something?”
Senator McDermott pulled the thumb drive from her laptop. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do—nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“This is going into my safe and neither of us will mention it to anyone. We do nothing. If the person who sent it wants to come forward and explain things, fine. If not, we stay focused and just keep doing our work. Someone is either trying to do me a huge favor or sabotage me, and I’m not going to waste time trying to figure out which it is.”
After Amir had ordered his warriors to bed and locked the door, he returned to the kitchen and closed his eyes in frustration. He breathed deeply and tried to separate himself from the worldly stress of the holy mission. Three warriors with known fates slept silently in the next room while their leader reviewed the details.
Twenty-four hours. It will all be over in twenty-four hours.
Would the truck be available? Would they have the nerve at the moment of truth? Would the weapons fire? Could they shift to knives if the guns malfunctioned? Would they execute the mission with sufficient brutality and viciousness, completely devoid of mercy and compassion for the infidels? Would they eviscerate the enemy when given the chance, or would they fold and run as many believers had done in the Levant? And what about the girl? Would she fulfill her role?
Too many unknowns with these amateurs. Too little time.
The warrior removed his shirt, socks, and shoes and made ablutions before approaching the makeshift prayer rug. With his forehead pressed vulnerably against the floor, he recalled Surah 3:151 of the Koran: “Soon shall we cast terror into the hearts of the unbelievers …”
One more sunset. One more sunrise.
Mark toweled off after his shower, quietly put on his workout clothes, and laced up his running shoes.
“Why do you shower before you work out?” asked Luci.
“Sorry, did I wake you? I shower because it warms up my muscles. Getting old, I guess, and it’s about three miles each way to Founders Field,” he said as he kissed her on the forehead and sat next to her on the bed.
She smiled faintly and closed her eyes again. “Three and two-tenths. Enjoy your run; I’m going back to sleep for a few more hours.”
Mark glanced at his watch; it said 10 a.m. “Understood, you got to bed pretty late and tossed and turned. But later today we need to get you up and moving—preferably outside. You can’t stay inside for the rest of your life. You need to start going out and getting back to normal, okay? Okay, Luci?”
No response. He kissed her on the forehead again and headed outside. Luci opened her eyes and watched him leave the bedroom. She started to sob softly.
Back to normal? Mark. I’m dying inside.
Mark jogged around the police barriers and slowed his run to a brisk walk with his hands on his hips. Hundreds of townspeople mingled in a sea of red, white, and blue in celebration of American independence. Flags waved in the gentle breeze, a five-piece band played patriotic songs, and children laughed and played in the grass. It was a peaceful and heartwarming sight, but Mark’s mind was stuck on Luci.
Don’t kid yourself
—
she’s getting worse.
He weaved his way through the crowd and headed for the only permanent structure on Founders Field: a square brick building that resembled a highway rest area. The row of port-a-potties outside made the bathroom line inside the building short. Mark relieved himself, splashed cold water on his face, and headed back outside to locate Andy.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the Independence Day Veterans Salute will begin in fifteen minutes on the stage at the far end of the field. Please join us in recognizing our hometown heroes dating back to World War II,” said a familiar voice over the loudspeaker.
Mark watched from behind the stage as Andy briefed a handful of volunteer football players and cheerleaders on the sequence of events. Approximately 125 veterans of various ages were participating. The cheerleaders would escort the older vets to their special seats on the stage, and the players would provide general crowd assistance, their athletic uniforms adding to the festive atmosphere. Andy finished briefing the kids as Mark approached.
“Not exactly dressed for the occasion, but I’m glad you’re here,” boomed Andy.
“I can’t stay—I need to get back to Luci. Just wanted to say hello and wish you luck.”
The two walked to the side of the stage and watched as the crowd started to gather and claim their spots on the grass.
“Wish you could stay, but I understand. It’ll be broadcast on local access if you get curious. I invited a ton of media, but it looks like none of them showed up. This is all about the vets, but I was hoping we would get some coverage as well for putting this thing together.”
“What’s security look like these days for a town event like this? I haven’t seen much,” asked Mark.
“It’s good. The roads around the field are blocked off to keep unwanted vehicles at bay, and there’s a half-dozen or so cops on detail. We’ve never had any issues beyond the occasional drunk, firecrackers in the trash cans, and a few twisted ankles. There’s an ambulance here somewhere. This event is pretty tame. Why, you worried?”
Mark scanned the crowd and shook his head. “No more than usual.”
“So, listen. I’ll keep my opening remarks short, but—”
Mark smiled and chuckled out loud. “Yeah, because you’re not long-winded at all!”
“I beg your pardon, sir. I’m thorough, not long winded. Anyway, in the early days of the town, every male age sixteen and above had to gather on this field every year to recite an oath of loyalty to the British Crown. Their descendants faced that tyranny and fought for independence. Then I figured I’d mention those who answered the call and fought to preserve the republic in the Civil War, toss in a few quick statements about the Mexican War, Spanish-American War, the World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, all the way up through Iraq and Afghanistan. Just a bunch of quick hits—nothing too deep. What do you think?” asked Andy.
Mark nodded. “Sounds good. You know what you’re doing, Andy. But I’d say definitely keep it brief—it’s hot out here and you’ll lose people quickly if you start rambling.” He held up his hands. “Not that you ever would!”
“Mr. O’Rourke?” said one of Andy’s football players nearby. “Just wanted to let you know we’re all set. Everyone is lined up and ready to go.”
“Okay, thanks, Matt. We’ll get started in a few minutes once the crowd gets settled.”
Andy turned to Mark. “See that kid? One of our captains. Fullback. Built like a brick shithouse and fast as a jackrabbit. Great kid too. I expect big things from him next year.”
“Well, good luck. That’s my cue to exit stage left and get back to Luci. I’ll try to get her out later, but I don’t see it happening. She’s still pretty shaken up and I can’t say I blame her. She got into the job to help kids, and even though she had no choice, she ended up shooting one. It’s going to be tough for her to get past this.”
“Send her my warmest regards,” said Andy.
Mark started out again at a slow jog and ran around the perimeter of the field. When he reached the far side and started down the street back to Luci’s house, he heard Andy’s voice echoing from behind.
“Happy Fourth of July! And welcome to our special Veterans Salute. We will begin in five minutes—please take your places. You won’t want to miss this!”