Breakdown: Season One (14 page)

Chapter 4 – Rescue

The heavy wooden door to the clinic swung shut behind John as he exited the building, his hulking body squeezing carefully through its frame.

Linus was waiting. He’d heard the screams all through the night, had heard what the young gangbanger had told John. The information was damning, and Linus was scared. He’d gambled and lost, and now it was time to man up and pay the price. Seeing the bloody claw hammer in John’s hands gave him doubts about what he was about to do. If he ran now, he might get away before John could catch him. The man was injured, after all.

No. It was too late for running. John’s eyes, hollow and empty, swung over to meet Linus, and like a lesser beast caught in the penetrating gaze of an apex predator, Linus froze. It could have been his imagination, but he could swear that he had heard John’s knuckles crack as they tightened on the handle of the hammer. There was anger blazing in those eyes. Some of it was directed at Linus, but most of it aimed at his daughter’s captors.

He hoped.

“You.”

The hammer rose, and the first rays of morning sun glinted off of bloodied steel.

“He knows I’m involved,” Linus thought, just before he wet his pants.

“John, I’m so sorry! I want to help rescue—” Linus begged before John cut him off with a glance.

Linus prepared himself. He was ready. He deserved this, didn’t he? He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the head of the hammer to cave in his skull. Linus wondered morbidly if his brain would have time to process the sound of his head caving in before he died. He wondered what his death would sound like.

The sound of steel clanging on the pavement wasn’t what Linus thought he would hear next.

After a long moment, he gathered enough courage to open one eye, squinting into the morning light. John had his arms raised, and Linus thought for a moment that John had decided on a much more hands on approach to his vengeance. But the hands never found his throat. Instead, John collapsed against him, flinging an arm around Linus for support.

“Take me to my home, Linus. You and I need to have a talk with Juliana’s mother.”

John’s voice was grim, determined, but for the moment, Linus had hope that he’d live to see another dawn.

The two men walked in silence to the Willis home, which was currently under guard by two of the neighborhood men. They nodded to John and scowled at Linus as he walked through the door. He realized then that he hadn’t been the only one who heard the screams, the confessions and the accusations. By now most of the neighborhood knew about his transgressions. He was damned. They’d throw him out shortly if they didn’t hang him from a tall tree as a lesson to everyone.

John led Linus to a seat that Thom had sat in just a couple of nights ago and told him to sit.

“Don’t move,” he said, his voice warning of unspoken consequences. After what Linus had heard last night, those consequences didn’t need to be spoken; he heard them loud and clear.

Talia walked in a moment later, calm and collected. She stepped over to where Linus was sitting and slapped him hard. The sound her hand made as it struck his face was impressive. Linus reached up instinctively to cradle his stinging cheek, and Talia slapped the other side.

“What did they give you for our daughter, Linus?”

“Talia, don’t—” John started.

“John, I love you, but so help me God, if you tell me what to do again, I don’t know what will happen.” She turned her gaze back to Linus. “I’m curious what the devil charges for a deal these days. What’s your soul worth to you, Linus?”

Linus unclenched his hands, and a pill bottle fell to the floor.

Talia flew at Linus in a frenzy of fists and kicks and clawing nails. John was a strong man, but he actually had trouble holding her back.

Finally, he was able to tear her away.

“Baby, sit. This is going to be okay. Linus is going to help make this right, aren’t you Linus?”

The blood drained from his face then, regardless of his stinging cheeks.

“Yes. Of course! I’ll help in any way I can.”

“Good, because you’re going with me to rescue her. Do you know how to shoot?”

“Shoot?! You can’t be serious.”

In response, John simply let his wife go, and the assault began again with renewed vigor.

“That’s enough, Talia,” John said, embracing his crying wife. “If you’re too hard on him he won’t be any help out there getting our girl back.”

Talia nodded and offered Linus a few more choice words in Spanish before she left the room.

“Linus, I don’t think these were events that you saw coming. Am I right?”

Linus nodded emphatically.

John continued. “Good. I know from the kid in the clinic that you were connected to this in some way. Do you know these men?”

Linus shook his head. “I didn’t know the kid who got shot, but I do know their boss.”

“Do you know where to find them?”

“I think so. They’re not far, but they’ll know you’re coming.”

“What do they want?” John asked, his face uncomfortably close to Linus’.

“Everything.”

John knew that much already. The note they’d found in his daughter’s room had said as much. He was to deliver himself to them, with Linus as his guide. In return, they would give the neighborhood four hours to evacuate with just the clothes on their backs. If they took anything with them beyond that, the note assured them that they would be killed by sniper fire.

Talia entered holding a stack of clean clothes. She tossed a shirt, some pants, and a belt at Linus before leaving again, streaming more Spanish.

Linus didn’t understand, but whatever she’d said sent John into a laughing fit.

“What’d she say?”

John simply held up his index finger giving the “one minute” sign while he finished laughing.

Eventually, he spoke.

“You’re going to need some clean, dark clothes if we’re going to get Juliana back. It’ll be easier for us to approach unseen.”

“John, what did your wife say?”

John grinned. “She said that she was sorry, she’d made a mistake. These are men’s clothes. She went to go see if Juliana had anything in your size.”

Linus hung his head in shame. “She’s right,” he admitted. “I’m a coward. I’m selfish. I’ve always taken the easy way out of things…done what’s best for my own self-interest. She’s right, John.”

John nodded.

“So tell me what you know about these guys. Every detail. We leave in an hour.”

Linus sat and spilled the beans. 

While they planned, John picked up the pill bottle and swallowed two of them dry.

…

John Willis considered himself a good judge of character, which is why he had to laugh when he slapped a rifle, one of the scary black ones people are always getting fired up about, into the arms of Linus. His every instinct was screaming at him to punish the man. Imprisonment, banishment, execution, something other than what he was doing right now, which was trusting him with his life.

He took a few minutes to show Linus the basic workings of the gun, including the “tap, rack, bang” methodology of dealing with a malfunction. If they survived the rescue mission, he’d teach him about stovepipes and squib loads, and other technical issues, but for now they were the least of their worries.

Talia walked to her husband and caressed his face with her hand before pulling him close for a passionate kiss that went on a lot longer than Linus was comfortable with. When they finally broke it off, they spent another long minute resting their heads against one another, and then it was time to go.

As Linus was about to step outside, Talia pulled him close and whispered something in his ear. His face paled and his knees wobbled, but he nodded and followed her husband outside.

The two men stepped out into the morning sun, the dew reflecting off the grass. John inhaled deeply and turned to the man next to him, who was still regaining the color in his face after whatever Talia had told him.

“What’d she say?”

Linus blanched again.

“Told you not to tell me, didn’t she?”

He nodded.

“You know, I could make you tell me if I wanted to.”

Linus shook his head emphatically. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but your wife scares me a lot more than you do, John.”

“Fair enough,” John said, walking toward the gates with a slight grin on his face.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, both men scanning the surrounding areas wearily. It was still early enough to be quiet…the kind of quiet that doesn’t exist in a city as big as this one.

After several minutes, John broke the silence.

“So we’re going to do what the note says. No heroics on your part, Linus. When they send Juliana out for the exchange, you take her back to her mother. Understood?”

Linus hesitated, his brow furrowed as if he were wrestling with something inside. Eventually he nodded in agreement.

“If anything happens to me, Linus, I want you to take Talia and Juliana to a farm near the center of the state. Talia will know what you’re talking about if you mention it. Don’t tell anyone else.”

Once again, a long pause was followed by a nod in the affirmative.

The two men approached the home of Linus’ dealer, arms raised. They paused in the center of the street, on an X that was spray painted on the asphalt, per the instructions in the note, and they waited. And waited.

The door to the home behind them opened. It wasn’t what John was expecting, and a strong, gruff voice spoke.

“Keep your right hands in the air with your backs to me. Keep your weapons slung behind your backs where we can see them. Using your left hand, slide the sling off and lower your weapon to the ground. Take two steps forward and continue facing forward with both hands held high. Failure to comply with these simple directions will be taken as resistance, and you will be summarily executed where you stand. Nod your heads if you understand.”

Both men nodded.

“All right, then. Lower your weapons and step forward.”

John and Linus complied, lowering their AR-15s to the pavement and taking two giant steps forward with hands raised.

“Where’s my daughter?”

“She’s fine. Once we have what we need, we’ll bring her out safe and sound.”

“You’ll get nothing until I see her.”

“Fair enough. Reggie, bring out the kid.”

The men looked straight ahead at the house in front of them. A second-story door leading to a porch overlooking the street opened, and a large man carried a chair out to the landing. Juliana still wore a dark cloth sack over her head, but John knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was his girl.

“Jules, Daddy’s coming, baby. I’m going to get you home safe and sound.”

The man next to her took the cloth off of her head and removed her gag.

“Daddy!” she cried, tear stains streaking her face.

John’s heart broke for her then.

“All right. How do we do this? The note said Linus delivers me, Juliana’s released. What’s after that?”

“After that,” the voice said, “we talk about the caches you’ve hidden throughout the city and outside of city limits. The end result of this situation rests with how cooperative you are, Officer Willis.”

Something clicked in John’s head just then. He wasn’t sure if it was the exact combination of words, the tone they were spoken in, or some combination of the two, but he knew this man.

Gregory Tobben.

He’d been personally responsible for Greg’s arrest after a human trafficking sting had struck pay dirt. The scumbag was supposed to be behind bars for another handful of years. He must have gotten out early on good behavior. He was also John’s old partner. Greg had opted into a deep cover mission infiltrating a gang, and the temptations of that lifestyle had gotten the better of him. He’d actually taken over leadership by the time John’s taskforce realized he’d gone native.

John’s eyes glanced down at the X they were standing near and noticed the pavement was pocked where something had struck it at high speed. Bullets.

Everything clicked then.

This wasn’t about the supplies, or the hidden caches of food and ammunition. This was personal.

His eyes flashed up to his daughter, her eyes filled with terror as she looked across the street at the house behind her father.

Juliana let out a blood-curdling scream. “Daddy!”

Something slammed into John, knocking him over. His hip erupted in pain. The pavement exploded around them, bullets sending chunks of asphalt speeding into exposed skin.

Something was tugging at him. He registered that Linus was climbing off of him, trying to drag him to a car across the street for cover.

John was up a moment later with the help of Linus, limping toward cover when something caught his foot. The sling of one of the ARs. With a flick of his foot that sent a major twinge of pain through his hip, he kicked the gun over to the car.

Another shot rang out, and the two men tumbled to the ground on the opposite side of the car. John shouldered the rifle and fired three quick shots at the man standing next to his daughter. Two of the three found their mark, and the man tumbled over the railing like something out of a B-list action movie.

More shots pinged against the metal of the car, and bullets punched through the doors to bury themselves into the dirt of the front yard.

John pulled a concealed pistol, some sort of polymer build chambered in .45, from the small of his back and handed it to Linus.

“We need to get into the house. I’m hearing two different guns, which makes it a little tricky. Greg knows what he’s doing, so it’s likely they won’t run out of ammo at the same time. I’m going to draw their fire off of you. Get into the house and get my daughter inside. I’ll catch up. Ready?”

Linus nodded, and John took that as his cue to spring into action. Resting his rifle on the hood of the car, he fired a series of shots in the direction of his attackers, peppering the brick façade with bullets.

It was just a guessing game at this point since he wasn’t sure where they had been shooting from. Ducking down, the two gunmen returned fire. Thankfully, he’d bought Linus the time he’d needed to get into the house. John prayed that he wouldn’t meet any resistance inside.

Popping up again, he fired off a handful of rounds. This wasn’t working. He needed a better idea of where the shooters were stationed.

John reached a hand up and snapped the mirror from the car door, angling it for a view of the house across the street while he remained behind cover.

There. A brief flash of sunlight off of the glass of a scope. Second floor, first window to the left, just behind the billowing curtains. The barrel of a gun rested gently on the window sill.

He needed to move. The ambushers had set up the site of the battle for their own advantage. It was only a matter of time before he was flanked and gunned down. If he could cross the street to the brick column of the house next door to the gunmen, he’d be able to cut off their angle of attack and make them move.

John took a deep breath, shouldered his rifle, and began to run across the street, snapping off a few shots to keep his attackers off balance. At least he started to. As John rose from the cover behind the car, he felt something in his hip grind against bone. His back arched instinctively, pulling him just far enough out of cover to give his assailants a clear shot. A shot rang out, and then another. Both found their mark, and John Willis fell.