Angel: Part VII A novel by Thomas A Hall
"She used to work for the government. She just killed her husband. She’s in bed with drug dealers—and she may be the only person left who can save the world"…
Dave
Angel woke up with a splitting headache. Every muscle in her body seemed to be aching and her vision was distorted. After a moment’s reflection, she realized that her left eye was swollen shut. She grunted with pain every time the car hit a bump. “Wait a minute!” she thought, “Whose car am I in?”
Looking around through her one good eye, she saw a burly, bearded face in the front passenger seat. As she tried to get a better view, she discovered that her hands were tied behind her and the seat belt for the left, rear passenger seat was run between her arms, holding her in place. She thought, “Oh crap. What’s up with these guys?” and drifted off again.
The driver said to the front-seat passenger, “Man, that went perfect. That bitch never knowed what hit her!” He laughed and the passenger joined him.
“Yeah, it worked good.” said the passenger. “Javier should be happy but, damn, did you see this chick? She’s a hottie! He leaned towards the rear and squeezed Angel’s breast. “Nice rack, too.’
The driver snapped, “Hey, dude, stop that. I don’t want Javier ticked off when we deliver her.”
The passenger grumbled, “Yeah, yeah. Everybody’s ‘fraid of what Javier will thinkThe driver said, “If you ain’t afraid, you ain’t been payin’ attention! If ya get out of line, Javier will kick your ass—just ask those guys what beat up the farmer in the Redlands.”
The passenger answered, “Yeah, that’s true. You’d think Javier would be happy that they busted up that jerk instead of having those guys stomped and banned from any other PETA actions. I knew one of them, Steve Barnes, and he’s been a member of PETA for years.”
The driver said, “I’m guessin’ Javier don’t want people freelancing. He wants people what obey orders.”
“You know that I believe in stopping cruel treatment of animals, but why Javier was so mad at those guys—well, I just don’t know.” said the passenger.
“We’ll be seeing him in a few minutes. Why don’t you ask him?” said the driver.
Angel began to come to. She was aching all over and groggy, but was determined to stay awake and figure out what was going on. She did an inventory of her situation as best she could—headache, left eye not working right, sore all over but more so on the left side, no broken bones as far as she could tell.
After assessing her physical situation, she considered her assets. She still had her clothes and shoes on. Apparently, whoever trussed her up and put her in this car didn’t search her body—they just tied her up and put her in the car. She could feel that her throwing knife was still in its scabbard on her right forearm, under her jacket. “Okay, that’s good.” she thought, “If they didn’t find the knife, then they were in too much of a hurry to find anything else.” She continued her inventory—razor blade hidden in her left boot heel, .22-caliber Beretta Bobcat in its holster on her right ankle and brass knuckles in her jacket’s left pocket. She said a silent thanks to God that she was dealing with amateurs.
“Now, if I wasn’t tied up, I could do some damage.” she thought.
Angel worked her hands down to the clasp on the seatbelt. Holding the seat belt with her left hand’s fingers, she pressed the clasp’s button and released the seatbelt quietly. She let it slip through her fingers slowly and retract. Once it was completely retracted, she began twisting her wrists, trying the knot and attempting to stretch the rope. Keeping her one good eye partially closed, but trained on the burly passenger in front of her, she continued working the rope. “If these guys know what they’re doing, I’m just wasting my time.” she thought, “On the other hand, they weren’t smart enough to frisk me!”
With that cheery thought, she continued twisting her wrists. It hurt, but gradually she felt the rope give way. Contracting her right hand as much as she could, she finally managed to pull it through the rope. Using her free right hand, she then pulled the rope off her left hand.
She waited.
When the man in the front passenger seat turned his head to the right to look at something out the right-side window, she pulled the throwing knife from her right sleeve with her left hand and grabbed the passenger’s hair with her right hand, pulling his head back and pricking his neck with the point of the knife. “Eww,” she thought, “what greasy hair!”
“If you move, you die.” she said to the passenger. She shouted at the driver, “Stop this car or he dies.’
The driver looked surprised, but didn’t slow down.
Angel pressed the knife against the passenger’s neck and he started to bleed. “I said stop the car now!” she shouted.
The driver looked at Angel angrily and said, “I ain’t stoppin’, bitch. You do what you want, but I’m takin’ ya to Javier.”
Angel was momentarily taken aback. As she considered his statement, the passenger roared and tried to reach back and grab her. She pulled herself back and slashed at his hands. He howled in pain as she dropped the knife and pulled the small pistol from its ankle holster.
Pointing the gun at the driver’s head, she cried, “Stop now or you’re dead!”
This time, the driver hit the brakes.
Screeching to a stop, his eyes darted from the gun to Angel’s battered face. His former belligerence was now turned to fear. “Don’t shoot me.” he pleaded, “I’m stopped. I’ll do what you want.”
The burly man in the passenger seat was clutching his bleeding hands together, but snarled at the driver, “Sure, you’ll do what she wants. You weren’t goin’ to stop when it was me she was stickin’. You’re a bitch, too.”
Angel was really sore and her head was throbbing, but she started to laugh. “Everybody’s a bitch to you two, huh?” she asked. “Okay, get out of the car. Move!”
The passenger just glowered at her.
Angel fired a shot past his head, shattering the side window. The sound of the gunshot, at close range and in the confines of the car, nearly deafened all of them. The passenger screamed, “Okay! I’m getting’ out!” and fumbled with the door handle. Finally pulling it open, he tried to get out, only to be held back by his seatbelt. “Damn!” he cried and unfastened it. Climbing out, he stood on the side of the road.
Angel told him, “Take off your pants.”
He just looked at her.
She pointed the small pistol at his groin and said again, “Take off your pants!”
The man complied, struggling to get his belt undone with his cut and bleeding hands. Standing there in his underwear, he looked ridiculous.
Angel ordered him to throw the pants into the car and close the door.
As the man did so, Angel told the driver, “Okay, move!”
The driver hit the gas, leaving his partner in a cloud of dust.
“Where were you going?” asked Angel, peering around, “It looks like we’re in the Redlands.”
The driver looked warily at the pistol in Angel’s left hand and replied, “I was takin’ you to Javier Blanco’s place.”
Angel said, “Well, let’s go then. You have a cell phone?”
The driver nodded and handed her the phone that was on the seat next to him. Using her right hand, Angel dialed Diego’s number.
When Diego answered, Angel said, “Hey, I was kidnapped by two idiots.” The driver looked at her balefully as she spoke. “I’m down in the Redlands area of South Dade. One of the idiots is on the side of the road without his pants now and I’ve got the other one under control.”
Diego asked with surprising concern in his voice, “Are you alright?”
Angel said, “Si, I’m banged up, but I’m okay. My car, however, was trashed.”
Diego asked, “Where did this happen?”
“Within a couple of minutes of reaching you at the Muvico.” replied Angel, “I think they were waiting for me. Obviously, they knew of my involvement with you, but I don’t know how.” She looked at the driver inquiringly. He just shook his head. “Yeah, the knuckleheads they sent to get me don’t know anything.”
Diego said, “So, what do you want to do?”
Angel answered, “I don’t know. They were supposed to take me to Javier Blanco as their captive, but I’ve blown that now. What do you think we should do?”
Diego replied, “Why don’t you just park somewhere for a little bit and let me come your way? It would be better if there were two or more of us. I can bring NIcki and leave Juan watching Evan Rodriguez.”
Angel thought about this for a moment and realized that it would be comforting to have their company. “Okay,” she said, “That sounds like a plan. Would you also bring some ice and aspirin? My eye’s swollen shut and I’ve got the headache to end all headaches.”
Diego said, “Of course. I will go to the safehouse and get Nicki. We can be down there in about an hour.”
With that, he hung up.
Angel said to the driver, “Hey, what’s your name?”
He said, “Dave.”
“Well, Dave, we’re going to hole up somewhere ‘til my friends arrive. Let’s see, why don’t you pull into that field on the right?”
Dave dutifully slowed and turned onto a dirt road running between two fields planted with corn. He drove about five hundred feet and Angel told him to stop. They sat there in the vehicle with the engine running and the air conditioning blasting.
Dave looked at Angel and said, with a slight tremble in his voice, “You ain’t gonna shoot me are ya?”
Angel looked at him scornfully and said, “That depends on you, doesn’t it? If you give me trouble, you’re a dead man. If you don’t, you may just make it out of this alive—although I ought to shoot you for what you did to my car!”
Dave, although still concerned, showed some relief.
Angel, on the other hand, thought about her car and what had transpired. Remembering her knife, she shifted the gun to her right hand and picked up the knife and slid it back into the sheath on her right forearm.
Dave said, “Lady, who are you? We was told to git you, but what kind of woman goes around with a knife like that and a pistol?”
Although feeling tired and beat up, Angel laughed at his words. “I guess I was a tomboy growing up. Instead of learning how to be a lady, I learned the Boy Scout motto.”
Dave looked at her blankly.
Angel sighed and said, “Be prepared?”
Dave said, “Oh!” and nodded.
Angel said, “As long as we’re sitting here, why don’t you tell me how a Cracker like you ended up with a nutcase like Javier Blanco.”
At this invitation, Dave smiled, revealing a mangled set of teeth. “Well, I don’t know if he’s a nutcase or not.”
Angel said, “Don’t you know him?”
Dave replied, “Not really. I seen him around, but I don’t really know him. One a his boys hired me and Travis, the feller you left without his pants, to grab you. Travis has been hangin’ round these guys fer awhile. They said we’d get five hunnerd each fer grabbin’ you.”
Angel leaned back against the right-side seat. It was hard to not think about her car, and herself, being trashed by this simpleton. “Frankly,” she thought, “it’s insulting that this moron managed to capture me in the first place.”
“We’re in, what, an old Ford Taurus?” asked Angel, “Whose truck ran into me?”
“Yes’m, this is a Taurus. It’s mine and it was in good shape ‘til you shot the window out.” Dave looked disapprovingly at Angel. “The truck was stolen by Travis. Mr. Blanco told us when you’d be comin’ by and what you was drivin’.”
Angel pondered that bit of news for a minute. “How did Javier Blanco know of her involvement? And, how did he know of her plans to join Diego?”
She asked Dave, “When were you hired to do this?”
“Jus’ this mornin’,” said Dave.
“He told you to intercept my car on Sheridan Street?” asked Angel.
“Nah, he told us to git a truck and he’d call and let us know where we was to go later.” answered Dave.
“So who else is hanging around Javier Blanco?” asked Angel.
“Well, le’s see. There’s a lot of folks hangin’ ‘round him.” said Dave, “There’s some fellers what seem kinda rough, but there’s others what seem purty fancy.”
“Fancy?” asked Angel.
“Yep, some of these folks got money and seem purty important—least, that’s how they act.” Dave was getting relaxed now, as if he and Angel were old friends. He continued, “I don’t know him really, but Travis tol’ me that the guy who actually hired us was a DEA agent named O’Reilly or Riley, I think.”
“Todd Riley?” Angel asked.
“Hey, you know him?” asked Dave.
“Yeah, I know him,” answered Angel. She thought to herself, “Todd Riley’s hooked up with Javier Blanco? Of course! He was George’s roommate in college and had joined the agency at the same time as George. George’s personal connections were popping up everywhere in this mess!”
Angel grabbed Dave’s cellphone again and rang up Diego. When Diego answered, she blurted out, “Are you still at the safehouse?”
Diego replied, “Si, we were just leaving.”
Angel said, “Before you go, please ask Evan Rodriguez about the surveillance system at his house. I don’t think we shut it down last night like we thought.”
Diego asked, “What makes you think so?”
Angel responded, “We hit his house last night and this morning Javier Blanco sent guys to abduct me. How did he know that I was involved with you? I’m guessing there was a redundant system somewhere that spotted all of us. More than that, I just learned that Todd Riley, George’s old friend and Deputy Director of the DEA here in Miami is connected to Blanco. If he saw a video recording of our break in, he’d recognize me.”
Diego paused for a moment, “Ah, I see.” he said at last, “That would certainly explain things. Give me five minutes and I will call you back.”
With that, he hung up.
Angel set the phone down and said to Dave, “Do you have any more to tell me about Javier’s friends?”
Nicki
Diego told Nicki about the conversation with Angel. They both got out of the car and walked back into the safehouse. It was an older, nondescript house near the western boundary of Southwest Ranches.
Southwest Ranches was an entire community dedicated to small horse farms and other “ranchettes” in southwestern Broward County. In earlier times, drug dealers used this remote area to land small planes and deliver drugs flown in from Colombia, Mexico and the Bahamas. However, as the aerial surveillance by the United States Coast Guard and Air Force improved, and as development spread inexorably westward, these activities were replaced by wealthy individuals and families looking for the “country squire” existence in an otherwise urban county. With Interstate 75 to the east, Pembroke Pines to the south, Weston to the north and the everglades to the west, Southwest Ranches was the only community offering anything remotely rural as a lifestyle in southern Broward County.
As they entered, Juan looked up with surprise. “Forget something?” he asked.
Diego simply nodded and walked to the living room where Evan Rodriguez was tied to a chair facing a blaring television. Diego stood in front of the television and said, “Señor Rodriguez!”
Evan looked at him pensively, “Yes?”
“Please answer some questions about your home’s video surveillance system.” said Diego.
In spite of himself, Evan grinned.
Diego said, “I have said something funny?”
Evan sneered, “Let me guess. You just figured out that I had a redundant system? Yes, in addition to the visible cameras, I had a second set of hidden cameras on a separate system with a digital recorder. By now, my friends have seen your faces and I should think that your days are numbered.”
Diego merely shrugged and said, “Everyone’s days are numbered, are they not? We will see if our days are longer than yours.” He turned to Nicki and Juan and said, “Let’s bring our friend with us. Perhaps he will be of more use to us in the Redlands.”
At the mention of “the Redlands” Evan’s eyes momentarily widened only to be quickly replaced with a look of sullen indifference.
Juan, who was looking at him as Diego spoke, said, “I think our friend here knows the Redlands.” and nodded towards Evan.
Diego said, “That’s fine. Juan, there’s no need for you to stay here now. Come with us and bring the rest of the ordinance.”
Juan stepped into a bedroom and returned a moment later with two Uzi submachine guns and the Winchester pump shotgun he’d used the night before. He motioned for Nicki to take the weapons and said, “I’ll get the extra ammo.”
Diego pulled out a pocketknife, opened the blade, and cut the zip ties holding Evan Rodriguez to the chair. Folding the blade, he put the pocketknife away and said to Evan, “Okay, let’s go.”
As they went outside, Evan strode in front of Diego and headed for the rear door of the Bentley. Diego grabbed his arm and said, “No, Señor, we have another place for you.” He keyed the remote and the trunk lid popped open. Evan’s shoulders sagged as he realized where he would be riding.
Diego escorted him to the empty trunk and waited for Evan to get in. He looked at the trunk and tried to not think of how he’d laid Victor’s body there just three days before. He lowered the trunk lid shut and said to Nicki and Juan, “Okay, let’s move.”
As they drove away, Diego called Angel. When she answered, he said, “Hola, mi amiga. Como estas?”
Angel answered, “Bien, e tu?”
Diego said, “You were right. Our friend just confirmed that there was a second video system. Obviously, they know who we are.”
Angel replied, “Just as I thought. However, based on what I’ve seen so far, they don’t have professionals working for them, just local losers. I’m guessing that they use them in order to keep some distance between the thugs and the PETA operation. After all, it wouldn’t help fundraising for the money crowd to see the other side of their activities.”
Diego said, “That makes sense to me. Okay, we’re on our way. How are you feeling and where are you?”
Angel answered, “I’m okay, just sore. We’re off Coconut Palm Drive just east of Kingman Road.”
Diego repeated the location back and Juan keyed it into the Bentley’s GPS system.
Angel said, “We’re in a field of corn and it’s the only corn I’ve seen in the area. Everything else is strawberry fields and fruit trees.”
Diego said, “Okay, we got it. According to the GPS, it’ll take us an hour to get there, but I think we’ll be a little quicker than that.” He hung up the phone and punched the gas pedal. The Bentley’s engine roared and the tires sent up a cloud of dust behind it on the dirt road leading from the safehouse. Reaching the end of the road, he turned onto US 27 and headed south.
Thomas A. Hall
Angel woke up with a splitting headache. Every muscle in her body seemed to be aching and her vision was distorted. After a moment’s reflection, she realized that her left eye was swollen shut. She grunted with pain every time the car hit a bump. “Wait a minute!” she thought, “Whose car am I in?”
Looking around through her one good eye, she saw a burly, bearded face in the front passenger seat. As she tried to get a better view, she discovered that her hands were tied behind her and the seat belt for the left, rear passenger seat was run between her arms, holding her in place. She thought, “Oh crap. What’s up with these guys?” and drifted off again.
The driver said to the front-seat passenger, “Man, that went perfect. That bitch never knowed what hit her!” He laughed and the passenger joined him.
“Yeah, it worked good.” said the passenger. “Javier should be happy but, damn, did you see this chick? She’s a hottie! He leaned towards the rear and squeezed Angel’s breast. “Nice rack, too.’
The driver snapped, “Hey, dude, stop that. I don’t want Javier ticked off when we deliver her.”
The passenger grumbled, “Yeah, yeah. Everybody’s ‘fraid of what Javier will thinkThe driver said, “If you ain’t afraid, you ain’t been payin’ attention! If ya get out of line, Javier will kick your ass—just ask those guys what beat up the farmer in the Redlands.”
The passenger answered, “Yeah, that’s true. You’d think Javier would be happy that they busted up that jerk instead of having those guys stomped and banned from any other PETA actions. I knew one of them, Steve Barnes, and he’s been a member of PETA for years.”
The driver said, “I’m guessin’ Javier don’t want people freelancing. He wants people what obey orders.”
“You know that I believe in stopping cruel treatment of animals, but why Javier was so mad at those guys—well, I just don’t know.” said the passenger.
“We’ll be seeing him in a few minutes. Why don’t you ask him?” said the driver.
Angel began to come to. She was aching all over and groggy, but was determined to stay awake and figure out what was going on. She did an inventory of her situation as best she could—headache, left eye not working right, sore all over but more so on the left side, no broken bones as far as she could tell.
After assessing her physical situation, she considered her assets. She still had her clothes and shoes on. Apparently, whoever trussed her up and put her in this car didn’t search her body—they just tied her up and put her in the car. She could feel that her throwing knife was still in its scabbard on her right forearm, under her jacket. “Okay, that’s good.” she thought, “If they didn’t find the knife, then they were in too much of a hurry to find anything else.” She continued her inventory—razor blade hidden in her left boot heel, .22-caliber Beretta Bobcat in its holster on her right ankle and brass knuckles in her jacket’s left pocket. She said a silent thanks to God that she was dealing with amateurs.
“Now, if I wasn’t tied up, I could do some damage.” she thought.
Angel worked her hands down to the clasp on the seatbelt. Holding the seat belt with her left hand’s fingers, she pressed the clasp’s button and released the seatbelt quietly. She let it slip through her fingers slowly and retract. Once it was completely retracted, she began twisting her wrists, trying the knot and attempting to stretch the rope. Keeping her one good eye partially closed, but trained on the burly passenger in front of her, she continued working the rope. “If these guys know what they’re doing, I’m just wasting my time.” she thought, “On the other hand, they weren’t smart enough to frisk me!”
With that cheery thought, she continued twisting her wrists. It hurt, but gradually she felt the rope give way. Contracting her right hand as much as she could, she finally managed to pull it through the rope. Using her free right hand, she then pulled the rope off her left hand.
She waited.
When the man in the front passenger seat turned his head to the right to look at something out the right-side window, she pulled the throwing knife from her right sleeve with her left hand and grabbed the passenger’s hair with her right hand, pulling his head back and pricking his neck with the point of the knife. “Eww,” she thought, “what greasy hair!”
“If you move, you die.” she said to the passenger. She shouted at the driver, “Stop this car or he dies.’
The driver looked surprised, but didn’t slow down.
Angel pressed the knife against the passenger’s neck and he started to bleed. “I said stop the car now!” she shouted.
The driver looked at Angel angrily and said, “I ain’t stoppin’, bitch. You do what you want, but I’m takin’ ya to Javier.”
Angel was momentarily taken aback. As she considered his statement, the passenger roared and tried to reach back and grab her. She pulled herself back and slashed at his hands. He howled in pain as she dropped the knife and pulled the small pistol from its ankle holster.
Pointing the gun at the driver’s head, she cried, “Stop now or you’re dead!”
This time, the driver hit the brakes.
Screeching to a stop, his eyes darted from the gun to Angel’s battered face. His former belligerence was now turned to fear. “Don’t shoot me.” he pleaded, “I’m stopped. I’ll do what you want.”
The burly man in the passenger seat was clutching his bleeding hands together, but snarled at the driver, “Sure, you’ll do what she wants. You weren’t goin’ to stop when it was me she was stickin’. You’re a bitch, too.”
Angel was really sore and her head was throbbing, but she started to laugh. “Everybody’s a bitch to you two, huh?” she asked. “Okay, get out of the car. Move!”
The passenger just glowered at her.
Angel fired a shot past his head, shattering the side window. The sound of the gunshot, at close range and in the confines of the car, nearly deafened all of them. The passenger screamed, “Okay! I’m getting’ out!” and fumbled with the door handle. Finally pulling it open, he tried to get out, only to be held back by his seatbelt. “Damn!” he cried and unfastened it. Climbing out, he stood on the side of the road.
Angel told him, “Take off your pants.”
He just looked at her.
She pointed the small pistol at his groin and said again, “Take off your pants!”
The man complied, struggling to get his belt undone with his cut and bleeding hands. Standing there in his underwear, he looked ridiculous.
Angel ordered him to throw the pants into the car and close the door.
As the man did so, Angel told the driver, “Okay, move!”
The driver hit the gas, leaving his partner in a cloud of dust.
“Where were you going?” asked Angel, peering around, “It looks like we’re in the Redlands.”
The driver looked warily at the pistol in Angel’s left hand and replied, “I was takin’ you to Javier Blanco’s place.”
Angel said, “Well, let’s go then. You have a cell phone?”
The driver nodded and handed her the phone that was on the seat next to him. Using her right hand, Angel dialed Diego’s number.
When Diego answered, Angel said, “Hey, I was kidnapped by two idiots.” The driver looked at her balefully as she spoke. “I’m down in the Redlands area of South Dade. One of the idiots is on the side of the road without his pants now and I’ve got the other one under control.”
Diego asked with surprising concern in his voice, “Are you alright?”
Angel said, “Si, I’m banged up, but I’m okay. My car, however, was trashed.”
Diego asked, “Where did this happen?”
“Within a couple of minutes of reaching you at the Muvico.” replied Angel, “I think they were waiting for me. Obviously, they knew of my involvement with you, but I don’t know how.” She looked at the driver inquiringly. He just shook his head. “Yeah, the knuckleheads they sent to get me don’t know anything.”
Diego said, “So, what do you want to do?”
Angel answered, “I don’t know. They were supposed to take me to Javier Blanco as their captive, but I’ve blown that now. What do you think we should do?”
Diego replied, “Why don’t you just park somewhere for a little bit and let me come your way? It would be better if there were two or more of us. I can bring NIcki and leave Juan watching Evan Rodriguez.”
Angel thought about this for a moment and realized that it would be comforting to have their company. “Okay,” she said, “That sounds like a plan. Would you also bring some ice and aspirin? My eye’s swollen shut and I’ve got the headache to end all headaches.”
Diego said, “Of course. I will go to the safehouse and get Nicki. We can be down there in about an hour.”
With that, he hung up.
Angel said to the driver, “Hey, what’s your name?”
He said, “Dave.”
“Well, Dave, we’re going to hole up somewhere ‘til my friends arrive. Let’s see, why don’t you pull into that field on the right?”
Dave dutifully slowed and turned onto a dirt road running between two fields planted with corn. He drove about five hundred feet and Angel told him to stop. They sat there in the vehicle with the engine running and the air conditioning blasting.
Dave looked at Angel and said, with a slight tremble in his voice, “You ain’t gonna shoot me are ya?”
Angel looked at him scornfully and said, “That depends on you, doesn’t it? If you give me trouble, you’re a dead man. If you don’t, you may just make it out of this alive—although I ought to shoot you for what you did to my car!”
Dave, although still concerned, showed some relief.
Angel, on the other hand, thought about her car and what had transpired. Remembering her knife, she shifted the gun to her right hand and picked up the knife and slid it back into the sheath on her right forearm.
Dave said, “Lady, who are you? We was told to git you, but what kind of woman goes around with a knife like that and a pistol?”
Although feeling tired and beat up, Angel laughed at his words. “I guess I was a tomboy growing up. Instead of learning how to be a lady, I learned the Boy Scout motto.”
Dave looked at her blankly.
Angel sighed and said, “Be prepared?”
Dave said, “Oh!” and nodded.
Angel said, “As long as we’re sitting here, why don’t you tell me how a Cracker like you ended up with a nutcase like Javier Blanco.”
At this invitation, Dave smiled, revealing a mangled set of teeth. “Well, I don’t know if he’s a nutcase or not.”
Angel said, “Don’t you know him?”
Dave replied, “Not really. I seen him around, but I don’t really know him. One a his boys hired me and Travis, the feller you left without his pants, to grab you. Travis has been hangin’ round these guys fer awhile. They said we’d get five hunnerd each fer grabbin’ you.”
Angel leaned back against the right-side seat. It was hard to not think about her car, and herself, being trashed by this simpleton. “Frankly,” she thought, “it’s insulting that this moron managed to capture me in the first place.”
“We’re in, what, an old Ford Taurus?” asked Angel, “Whose truck ran into me?”
“Yes’m, this is a Taurus. It’s mine and it was in good shape ‘til you shot the window out.” Dave looked disapprovingly at Angel. “The truck was stolen by Travis. Mr. Blanco told us when you’d be comin’ by and what you was drivin’.”
Angel pondered that bit of news for a minute. “How did Javier Blanco know of her involvement? And, how did he know of her plans to join Diego?”
She asked Dave, “When were you hired to do this?”
“Jus’ this mornin’,” said Dave.
“He told you to intercept my car on Sheridan Street?” asked Angel.
“Nah, he told us to git a truck and he’d call and let us know where we was to go later.” answered Dave.
“So who else is hanging around Javier Blanco?” asked Angel.
“Well, le’s see. There’s a lot of folks hangin’ ‘round him.” said Dave, “There’s some fellers what seem kinda rough, but there’s others what seem purty fancy.”
“Fancy?” asked Angel.
“Yep, some of these folks got money and seem purty important—least, that’s how they act.” Dave was getting relaxed now, as if he and Angel were old friends. He continued, “I don’t know him really, but Travis tol’ me that the guy who actually hired us was a DEA agent named O’Reilly or Riley, I think.”
“Todd Riley?” Angel asked.
“Hey, you know him?” asked Dave.
“Yeah, I know him,” answered Angel. She thought to herself, “Todd Riley’s hooked up with Javier Blanco? Of course! He was George’s roommate in college and had joined the agency at the same time as George. George’s personal connections were popping up everywhere in this mess!”
Angel grabbed Dave’s cellphone again and rang up Diego. When Diego answered, she blurted out, “Are you still at the safehouse?”
Diego replied, “Si, we were just leaving.”
Angel said, “Before you go, please ask Evan Rodriguez about the surveillance system at his house. I don’t think we shut it down last night like we thought.”
Diego asked, “What makes you think so?”
Angel responded, “We hit his house last night and this morning Javier Blanco sent guys to abduct me. How did he know that I was involved with you? I’m guessing there was a redundant system somewhere that spotted all of us. More than that, I just learned that Todd Riley, George’s old friend and Deputy Director of the DEA here in Miami is connected to Blanco. If he saw a video recording of our break in, he’d recognize me.”
Diego paused for a moment, “Ah, I see.” he said at last, “That would certainly explain things. Give me five minutes and I will call you back.”
With that, he hung up.
Angel set the phone down and said to Dave, “Do you have any more to tell me about Javier’s friends?”
Nicki
Diego told Nicki about the conversation with Angel. They both got out of the car and walked back into the safehouse. It was an older, nondescript house near the western boundary of Southwest Ranches.
Southwest Ranches was an entire community dedicated to small horse farms and other “ranchettes” in southwestern Broward County. In earlier times, drug dealers used this remote area to land small planes and deliver drugs flown in from Colombia, Mexico and the Bahamas. However, as the aerial surveillance by the United States Coast Guard and Air Force improved, and as development spread inexorably westward, these activities were replaced by wealthy individuals and families looking for the “country squire” existence in an otherwise urban county. With Interstate 75 to the east, Pembroke Pines to the south, Weston to the north and the everglades to the west, Southwest Ranches was the only community offering anything remotely rural as a lifestyle in southern Broward County.
As they entered, Juan looked up with surprise. “Forget something?” he asked.
Diego simply nodded and walked to the living room where Evan Rodriguez was tied to a chair facing a blaring television. Diego stood in front of the television and said, “Señor Rodriguez!”
Evan looked at him pensively, “Yes?”
“Please answer some questions about your home’s video surveillance system.” said Diego.
In spite of himself, Evan grinned.
Diego said, “I have said something funny?”
Evan sneered, “Let me guess. You just figured out that I had a redundant system? Yes, in addition to the visible cameras, I had a second set of hidden cameras on a separate system with a digital recorder. By now, my friends have seen your faces and I should think that your days are numbered.”
Diego merely shrugged and said, “Everyone’s days are numbered, are they not? We will see if our days are longer than yours.” He turned to Nicki and Juan and said, “Let’s bring our friend with us. Perhaps he will be of more use to us in the Redlands.”
At the mention of “the Redlands” Evan’s eyes momentarily widened only to be quickly replaced with a look of sullen indifference.
Juan, who was looking at him as Diego spoke, said, “I think our friend here knows the Redlands.” and nodded towards Evan.
Diego said, “That’s fine. Juan, there’s no need for you to stay here now. Come with us and bring the rest of the ordinance.”
Juan stepped into a bedroom and returned a moment later with two Uzi submachine guns and the Winchester pump shotgun he’d used the night before. He motioned for Nicki to take the weapons and said, “I’ll get the extra ammo.”
Diego pulled out a pocketknife, opened the blade, and cut the zip ties holding Evan Rodriguez to the chair. Folding the blade, he put the pocketknife away and said to Evan, “Okay, let’s go.”
As they went outside, Evan strode in front of Diego and headed for the rear door of the Bentley. Diego grabbed his arm and said, “No, Señor, we have another place for you.” He keyed the remote and the trunk lid popped open. Evan’s shoulders sagged as he realized where he would be riding.
Diego escorted him to the empty trunk and waited for Evan to get in. He looked at the trunk and tried to not think of how he’d laid Victor’s body there just three days before. He lowered the trunk lid shut and said to Nicki and Juan, “Okay, let’s move.”
As they drove away, Diego called Angel. When she answered, he said, “Hola, mi amiga. Como estas?”
Angel answered, “Bien, e tu?”
Diego said, “You were right. Our friend just confirmed that there was a second video system. Obviously, they know who we are.”
Angel replied, “Just as I thought. However, based on what I’ve seen so far, they don’t have professionals working for them, just local losers. I’m guessing that they use them in order to keep some distance between the thugs and the PETA operation. After all, it wouldn’t help fundraising for the money crowd to see the other side of their activities.”
Diego said, “That makes sense to me. Okay, we’re on our way. How are you feeling and where are you?”
Angel answered, “I’m okay, just sore. We’re off Coconut Palm Drive just east of Kingman Road.”
Diego repeated the location back and Juan keyed it into the Bentley’s GPS system.
Angel said, “We’re in a field of corn and it’s the only corn I’ve seen in the area. Everything else is strawberry fields and fruit trees.”
Diego said, “Okay, we got it. According to the GPS, it’ll take us an hour to get there, but I think we’ll be a little quicker than that.” He hung up the phone and punched the gas pedal. The Bentley’s engine roared and the tires sent up a cloud of dust behind it on the dirt road leading from the safehouse. Reaching the end of the road, he turned onto US 27 and headed south.
Thomas A. Hall
You can read parts 1 through 6, here, by following the links. Links 5 and 6 will need to be copied and pasted, sorry for the inconvenience.
1. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel-chapter-1---a-novel-by-thomas-a-hall.html
2. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel-part-ii.html
3. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel---pt-3.html
4. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel-part-four.html
5. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel-part-v.html
6. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel-part-vi.html
1. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel-chapter-1---a-novel-by-thomas-a-hall.html
2. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel-part-ii.html
3. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel---pt-3.html
4. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel-part-four.html
5. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel-part-v.html
6. http://www.weeklysouthernarts.com/angel-part-vi.html
