Chapter 42: Mark Calls

Friday 5 AM

Shortly after our talk ended I got the phone call from Mark on the cell phone I gave Gracie for him. He sounded very upset. I moved out of the sleeping area, to the prison. I was about to speak when suddenly there was a scream of agonizing pain - I guessed Sara was working on Koch, for her own benefit. She hated her work and wanted to move it along, so she kept pressure on the guy. The cells are soundproof, but there is a direct sound pipe that can be opened exactly for this purpose. The place was really a well designed as a prison run by criminals.

“What the hell was that?” Mark asked. These custom phones didn’t have “mute” buttons. Even with voice distortion on the sound was clear. “Are you torturing some poor devil?”

I stepped into an interrogation room. “You do not want to know. You used one of your calls for this. Why?”

“You were right and I did not take you seriously, I should have seen the danger. I just assumed you were a paranoid street gang member puffing himself up,” he said in a tone that took all the blame for something bad that he didn’t do.

“What happened?” I asked. “Start at the start. I assume this was after Gracie left with my friend?” Well, he knew I had orchestrated that part. He knew his trackers were halfway to La Paz by now.

“You have strange ... well, never mind. After I lost Gracie I went to Brenda’s house and put in some more cameras...”

“Brenda?” I honestly had no idea.

“Brenda was my ex-wife, Gracie’s mother.” I caught his use of the past tense but did not comment. “I had a key and wasn’t seen. I also posted a two man team on the house 24-7. I’m a fool and it is pure luck they did not get killed. Brenda and her husband got home today ... that is yesterday, Thursday... 9 hours ago.” He was confused. This was a guy who was cool under pressure, but he was clearly shaken by his ex-wife’s fate. “Shortly after they arrived a truck for the cable company pulls up and parks. My guys don’t know that Brenda hates all cable companies, one was her biggest investing loss. The truck sits 10 minutes then leaves. My guys figured they used directional microphones and IR cameras to see who was home. That means the bastards knew Brenda’s flight schedule. How could they?”

“You are a dumb ex-cop who does not bribe or intimidate people or offer them drugs or girls and you could have gotten the flight info, right? People are so helpful when you push the right buttons. Darnel is a master at picking the right buttons. Plus he has a total lack of scruples.”

“Okay, I know that now. Anyways, a little later, just after dark, more guys pull up. A new Camaro and a big unmarked van pull into the driveway. They just sat for a minute, then a guy got out of the car and rang the doorbell. My guys didn’t know what to do. Turns out one of the neighbors called 911 as soon as the van turned in the drive ... it violated some stupid zoning law. The response time was 90 seconds, but you know what? For a charge of ‘unsightly van’ only one radio car came. Before the cops were out of the car guys in masks and body armor poured out of the van and shot them up with automatic weapons. One guy yanked the dead cop out of the driver seat so he could move the squad car. Everybody else went into the house. They were quick and brutal, they shot Brenda’s husband straight off and grabbed Brenda. I had overcome my revulsion and placed cameras in the bedroom. They cut off her clothes, stuck her a few times with small knives in painful but non-lethal places and finally started to ask her where Gracie was. She had no idea. They asked again. Then they heard the SWAT sirens.”

“How did SWAT know?” I asked.

SWAT doesn’t show up anyplace at the start, they are the LAPD closers, a last resort. Always late to the party, you can count on it. That is by design because they generate so much paperwork.

“My guys. One is ex-LAPD and knows the SWAT Captain ... called him as soon as they shot the cops. Swat was close due to a training exercise. When the sirens came all heck broke loose.”

“Any guys still outside?” It was a logical question.

“Just the driver in the Camaro, he tried to drive but was blocked in by the van, so he jumped out of the car and ran through the back yard before SWAT pulled up. My second guy, a probie, followed him and earned his pay.”

That was the moment when I knew what this call was about - straight-arrow Mark was stuck on a bridge with a 200 pound weight as he considering crossing over to the dark side. He wanted to do a quick over-and-back to keep his hands clean but the dark side does not work that way. Right now, in between, he was at the most risk and he knew it. I just had to let him find the way or I would scare him into something stupid, like going to the cops. “What about inside the house?”

“One guy was cool, he kept questioning Brenda. He shot her up with some drug and had a 5-gallon bottle of water along, but he didn’t have time for either. When they heard SWAT everybody else took defensive positions. As soon as the truck pulled up they started shooting. SWAT shot back - and because of the call from my guy they had better body armor. When a stray bullet killed Brenda the guy asking the questions flipped out. He drew two Uzi pistols with custom double stack mags and charged out the front door, shooting. He had better armor, there were a lot of impacts from SWAT but he didn’t go down until the sniper put a round in his eye.”

“Tuccos...” I said. “ ... Darnel hired guys from the Tuccos motorcycle gang to squeeze your ex-wife. It is worse than you can imagine. How many guys in total?”

“How do you know that?”

“The dual Uzis and a new Camaro are a trademark of Marzz, their maximum asshole of a warlord. A serious psycho...” says the pot about the kettle. “Everything else fits.”

I told Mark the Tuccos were a small motorcycle club, about 25 members. Rumor was you had to kill an outlaw biker to get in. They were hunted by other outlaw bikers so they never showed their colors unless they were all present, armed and looking for blood. All are ex-military and favored heavy automatic weapons. I was betting that now they were down one-third of their membership and were looking for Darnel’s head because it seemed too much like a trap; the SWAT response time said they were set up. Mark’s head was next on their list. I was glad Gracie was out of the state.

“You ... you have dealt with these animals?”

“Hell no, they are insane.” (I know insane when I see it, like every morning when I shave.) “I know to avoid mad dogs. Sometimes you learn things so you can avoid them. By the way, you know it means you are next?”

“How... ?”

“Your close tie to Brenda and Gracie is a matter of public record. Do you think that, after spending over a half million dollars on this, Darnel will back off? With Tuccos asking questions he thinks he needs Gracie even more now so you are up next. Do you have a marine base you can live on? Anyway, how did the battle turn out?”

“SWAT killed all seven who were there. Four cops took minor wounds securing the scene. Plus the two dead of course.”

“That means it was a $100,000 hit, or $150,000 if it was a twofer that included Gracie.”

“How can you know that?”

“I have an idea what they charge from ... never mind. They are lousy on defense, they can’t protect folks like bodyguards. It always ends badly.” It was true, we all needed free-lancers on occasion, and sometimes a battle depends on who shoots first. Other times not shooting is the better idea.

“My guys can protect me ... wait, you said $100K for this hit, after you said a half million dollars. What the...” His confusion was understandable.

“Your guys cannot protect you, they just buy you a chance to see your friends die. Darnel paid roughly $400K to hit me because he thinks I am a harder target with a badge. He is right, in fact I am even harder than he thinks. He sent hitmen, well, hit children really, insane little monsters, Los Ninos Sicario de Diablo.”

“They really exist? I thought they were a scary story. Did you kill them?”

“I assure you they are real, they just don’t get up this far North very often. Mexico City is big and their main income is from kidnapping. You don’t want to know what happened ... except, obviously, I won as always, and they are no good to me dead on the street so we are talking. You heard that scream earlier? That was a Shark with them. What about the last Tucco? The one your guy followed?” I knew it was what he needed to talk about.

“He got three blocks, then we are going to say he fell and broke his ankle. My guy got him to a doctor ... well, a private not quite doctor, if you take my meaning.”

“I do, and there is no reason for code, these phones are secure, one-time numbers and encrypted. To the NSA they are just noise. I suppose you think it would be nice if I could hold this guy for a time.”

“Well, you had Gracie in a secure location, and I seem to be in need of one. So yes, that is the hope.”

“That place is no solution. Plus I am hours away right now. If he sees a moment of freedom a Tucco will call his buds then come after you, your guy and the Doctor. Turn him over to the cops and he makes bail or there is a screwup then the same thing happens. Your best bet is to kill him after a long talk with a lot of healthy water while he is strapped to a board. Use all your skills. Do it soon. Also, hope that you can trust your guy.”