FanStory.com - Living On The Edge - Chap 15by Begin Again

CHAPTER 15

Frankie's guests enjoyed the music and dancing at the Lazy Saloon, but they were each assigned a mission: to keep an eye on what was happening inside and outside.

In Frankie's office, he'd given three men, Carl, Benny, and Pete, a high-priority job. He presented pictures of Marcos' late-night meeting with the Chief of Police and explained that he believed a hit was being arranged. His message was clear in each man's mind.

Expect a crowd, including our friends. You'll always be alerted to Marcos's whereabouts. Remain on the ready but in the shadows, out of sight. If he shoots, you will need to be on the move. Stop him, but don't kill him. I want him alive.

Frank had chosen these men carefully. They were the best. Quick, accurate, and silent. Like a well-oiled machine, they hadn't failed. They'd bagged their quarry and were headed home.

Carl drove the sedan slowly through the alley, away from the park, and to the next avenue without attracting attention. The streets were lit up with red and blue as the fleet of squad cars arrived on the scene. The men grinned as they disappeared.

"A piece of cake, guys." They all laughed, satisfied with completing their job.

*****
As they headed back to Frankie's, Marcos regained consciousness. He was irate, banging and kicking the inside of the trunk. His mouth was non-stop with accusations and threats.

"Harrison, you're a double-crossing, dirty cop. Let me out of here! You don't know who you are messing with! When I get out of here, you're dead."

Inside the car, the men's frustrations were skyrocketing as they each offered their suggestions for the scumbag in the trunk.

"Carl, hit a few potholes, maybe it'll knock him out again."

"Knock him out, hell. I'm going to drown the turd in one of Frankie's toilet bowls."

"Let me cap his ass. I could use a little target practice." Benny pointed his gun at the back of the car. "Pow! Pow! Bet that'd shut him up."

"Benny, you ain't cappin' no one. Frank said to bring him back alive, and that's what we're doing."

Pete rolled his eyes at his friend's suggestion. "It's your fault, Benny. You didn't want me to drive. You know Carl drives like his eighty-year-old grandmother." He screamed at the back of the seat. "Shut up, you fool. When we get you out of there, I'm gonna squeeze your throat till your eyes pop out."

Carl turned the music up, hoping to drown all of them out as he headed to Frankie's place.
*****
The park was in chaos, with reporters cordoned off, frantically pacing around, yelling at anyone who would listen, trying to get the scoop on what was happening. Tempers flared and some stooped to reporter bribery.

"Tony, how about you give a friend the scoop on what's happening? I'll make it worth your while."

"Officer, I'll give you a front-page mention if you give me a little info."

"Larry, remember the money I loaned you? I'll forget it if you've got any inside info."

The answer was always the same: a shake of the head and "Wait for the Chief." No one risked putting their head on the chopping block or stealing Chief Harrison's thunder.

Frankie's "guests" huddled together, sharing jokes and humorous quips about their situation. They drew parallels between themselves and characters in an old-fashioned show like Andy Griffith, with "Barney" being the Chief of Police, assuming a prominent role in the drama.

Chief Richard Harrison was center stage. He marched back and forth across the grass, his face contorted with rage, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He bellowed at every officer he saw, his voice echoing in the dark.

"You, moron, of course, there's a body. Somebody committed a shooting. Can someone show me the body? I was told the FBI guy was down. Where's his body?"

Most officers steered clear of the Chief, but two young officers approached him, hoping to impress him and aid in the investigation. Eagerly, one blurted out, "We were among the first to arrive, sir. By the time the crowd moved away, he was gone."

The Chief glared at them. "On his own accord? How's that possible? I have an entire force combing this park, and not one officer saw the man who got shot. How is that possible?"

"Can't say where he went or with whom, sir, but except for the blood on the ground, there isn't any sign of a body."

"Get on the radio. Check the hospitals. Check the ambulances to see whether they picked up anyone here tonight. He couldn't have just been resurrected and disappeared," he snapped and continued to pace.

Furious, he screamed, "The man's shot, for Christ's sake. He can't have gone far. Do your job if you want to keep it. I want this man found, and I want him now."

Harrison's eyes sparked with anger. "Find him."

*****
Sammy entered the study after knocking on the door. "Sir, a special agent of the FBI is requesting permission to bring one of his officers here."

Frankie, who was surprised at the request, walked around his desk and approached Sammy. "An FBI agent is calling us for help? That's a first," he said in disbelief. "I need to know what this is about. Patch him through, Sammy. And then come back here."

Sammy nodded and quickly left the room to transfer the call.

Finally, the phone rang, and Frankie answered, "Frank DiVito speaking. Who am I speaking to, and why do you want to bring your man to my house? Is this a joke?"

"I assure you it is not a joke. I'm told that this officer is a friend of yours, and due to the nature of his injuries, he has asked that we deliver him to you instead of a local hospital," the agent explained, his voice urgent.

Frankie's heart skipped a beat. "A friend of mine? Oh, my God! Is it Jake? I was told he was dead," he said, his voice trembling. "Yes, yes, bring him. We have our hospital here at the mansion and the finest doctors."

"Thank you, Mr. DiVito. Jake is a special friend of mine, too."

"Mi casa es tu casa. We will be ready," Frankie replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Once off the phone, Frankie turned to Sammy. "You heard? He's alive, Sammy. We can be thankful for that. How his team got him before Harrison did will be an interesting story, but please alert the staff for now. They should be here shortly."

"I know how much Jake means to you, sir. I'm glad that he's alive." Sammy smiled. "While you were on the phone, Carl and the guys entered the garage. They're waiting for further orders before they take Marcos out of the trunk."

"Well, I wasn't sure they would bring him back alive. Now that he's here, we'll see how Jake is and leave that decision to him. If he's able, I'm sure he'll have questions. Tell Carl to put him in the holding room. Maybe you can help with that, Sammy."

"No problem. I am on it." Sammy left the study to prepare for Jake's arrival and hold the man responsible for his injuries.

Frankie slumped back into his chair, feeling drained and overwhelmed. He couldn't believe that Jake was alive. He put his head in his hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to process all that had happened.

*****

The tempo of the reporters yelling skyrocketed as the Chief stepped onto a temporary stage, raising his hands to quiet the crowd.

"Quiet, please. I appreciate your impatience, but this is a multiple-crime scene, and as Chief of Police, I must ensure it is appropriately handled.

"What went down?"

"Have you identified any of the victims?"

"Who was the woman they arrested?"

Questions flew from every direction. The Chief raised his hands again, requesting silence. The noise lowered to a murmur, and he spoke into the microphone.

"It's an ongoing investigation. Until I have all the information, I can't release names. I will do everything to keep our citizens safe and remove the low life living in the bowels of this town. The mayor has turned a blind eye, but I —"

"The current scuttlebutt is you're eyeing the mayor's position?"

Richard Harrison smiled at the crowd. "I might entertain the thought if asked, but first things first. I am heading this investigation for now."

"Give us something. Your team arrived moments after the events went down. Was that coincidence or a planned sting?"

Richard Harrison scanned the crowd, wondering if this was the opportunity he needed and wanted. Cameras flashed. The crowd was in a frenzy, dying for the perfect morning headline. He decided to seize his moment of glory.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Yesterday, our divers pulled a woman's body from the river, burned and mutilated. Forensics shows it was one of our own, Officer Alyssa Saladino. She was working undercover in the red-light district, replacing another murdered officer, Sandra Henning. The entire department's efforts led to the determination that Troy Sinclair, recently released from Joliet Prison, played a personal role in Ms. Saladino's disappearance and the crimes that unfolded here tonight. Unfortunately, Mr. Sinclair, with possible assistance from an underworld crime boss, Frank DiVito, managed to evade capture and is at large. We believe a federal law enforcement officer was shot tonight, but I can't confirm that at this time. I'm not at liberty to release any further details, but I assure you that I am heading this investigation, and we are on top of it. I will not stop until the case is marked closed."

While the reporters clamored for more information and cameras flashed, Chief Richard Harrison left the stage, smiling.

"That went well, I think." He walked briskly to his car.

"Sir, will you be headed for the station?" An officer opened the Chief's car door.

"No, I believe I will call it a night. Start with a fresh mind tomorrow. Our perp can enjoy our fine establishment tonight." The officer nodded and closed the door.

Harrison chuckled. "I warned her. She should have gone back to New York and kept her pretty little nose out of my town. Now — if I have anything to say about it, she can enjoy prison life."

*****

Sammy entered the hospital, eager to get an update on Jake. Puzzled by the laughter from the operating room, he hurried in that direction.

As he entered the room, Sammy demanded, "What's going on? This is a sterile operating room, not a debriefing room. You don't look like FBI."

Four men spun around, revealing Jake sitting on the bed, laughing.

Sammy was confused. "Jake — I thought you were shot."

"I was, but I listened to my superiors —"

A tall, lanky cowboy chuckled and interjected, "For once."

Another round of laughter exploded.

Jake laughed and continued, "I was wearing a bulletproof vest." He raised his shirt, exposing the dark bruising on his chest. "Not bad, huh?"

"And the arm?" Sammy could see the bloody bandages and medical tools on the table.

"Took a bullet, but it's not the first one. Doc says it's clean. So, I'll survive."

"Are these guys responsible for the quick rescue and recovery? I've heard Chief Harrison didn't take your disappearance very well."

"Thanks for your help tonight." The cowboy removed his stetson and extended his hand toward Sammy. His steel-blue eyes were warm and friendly. "I'm Garth Woodman, and these are my fellow agents, Tango, Poppa, and Lance." They all wore Western wear. "They dressed the part, staying close to our friend here. They heard the crack of the gun and saw Jake go down. Thanks to quick thinking, they had him out before anyone knew what was happening."

"I appreciate the recovery, guys, but did you have to be so rough?" Jake made a face at the crew.

Tango laughed. "A little payback, my friend."

Their boisterous laughter filled the room again.

"I'd like to check on Troy if that's possible, Sammy."

"Of course, but Frankie wants to talk to you first. It's been a busy night for our team as well."

Jake was surprised. "Frank had his guys at the bar? He doesn't get involved in the town's business."

Sammy chuckled. "Frankie went above and beyond for you, my friend. Most of the patrons in the park were his guests. You'll have a lot of witnesses to what went down. Three of his best tossed your shooter in the trunk of Frank's sedan."

Jake smirked. "Is he buried in some field by now? And how did Frank know?"

"We've had a tail on the Chief. We've got nice shots of Harrison driving his classic car. Oh yeah, a juicy one of him picking up Marcos, your shooter."

Garth smiled and shook his head. "Why'd you call us, Jake? Looks like you had your own backup already."

"I didn't know. Frankie keeps things close to his chest."

Sammy smiled. "The boss doesn't forget the pact. There's a spot in his heart, especially for you."

Jake slipped off the bed, wobbled, and then found his balance. "Well, guys, if Sammy leads the way, you're about to meet the best Crime Boss in Illinois."

Garth pushed a wheelchair toward Jake. "Only if you ride."

Tango stood behind the wheelchair. "Hang on, pal. My driving skills are rusty." He steered the chair toward the door, purposely bumping into the doorjamb. "Oops!"

"Frank's in his study. You guys can interrogate Marcos afterward before our guys tire of babysitting the loud-mouth creep." Sammy turned to Jake. I'll take you to Troy's room while they are busy."

A beautiful woman stood in the doorway of another room. Jake's eyes widened as he recognized her.

"Sammy, that's —"

"A patient with amnesia. She's become friendly with Troy. He's given her the name of Alyssa."

Jake's eyebrows raised as he asked, "Any more secrets you'd like to share?"

"That's enough for tonight. Frankie's waiting." Sammy knocked and opened the door, allowing the group to enter the study.