Echoes of a Distant Summer (73 page)

BOOK: Echoes of a Distant Summer
7.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“But you’re in it now, aren’t you? And his training is helping you, isn’t it?”

“I’m only in it because his enemies give me no choice. They’ll kill all of us if I don’t fight back.”

Rhasan persisted, “The training he gave you is helping you, isn’t it?”

“To some degree,” Jackson grudgingly conceded. “Although I don’t intend to leave you in the circumstance he left me.”

“Unc, can you really guarantee the situation will be different? That a DuMont won’t come looking for revenge? That these Mob guys won’t ever try again?”

Jackson stared at Rhasan, surprised that he had so much information. “Did your mother tell you all this?”

Rhasan nodded. “Yeah, she told me a lot of stuff when she was trying to scare me and persuade me that you didn’t need my help.”

“She’s right. I don’t need your help now.” When Jackson saw the frown spread across Rhasan’s face he continued, “And I don’t want your help until you’ve been educated and trained.” Jackson saw two burly white men over Rhasan’s shoulder coming toward them. He looked around quickly and saw there was a bench off the path that would require both men to face him if they were intending harm. “Rhasan, step around behind me and let’s go sit on that bench.” Rhasan looked over his shoulder and saw the two men. He immediately followed his uncle’s direction and joined him on the bench.

As the two men drew abreast, one of them turned to Jackson and asked, “Do you know if the trail over the hill to the coast is open?”

Jackson kept his hands folded in front of him. He forced a smile on his face and replied, “Don’t know. You might check at the ranger station at the entrance to the park.”

One of the men reached quickly under his jacket, fumbled for a moment, then pulled out a map. After a moment of reviewing the map, he suggested to his companion, “Why don’t we try it anyway? It’s too far to go back to the entrance.”

The second man shrugged. “Okay with me.” They both nodded to Jackson and Rhasan and continued on the path.

Jackson waited until the men were out of sight then slid a small .45 automatic back into the holster under his arm.

Rhasan asked in a shocked whisper, “You’re carrying a gun, Uncle Jax?”

“An unfortunate but necessary precaution.”

There was awe in Rhasan’s voice when he said, “Uncle Jax, you are so cool.”

Jackson retorted, “Why, because I’m carrying a gun? That’s not cool! Having to carry a gun means that I haven’t taken care of the business that I needed to.”

“No, Uncle Jax, that’s not it. It’s just that I never figured you to do something like this and you do it so cool and unbothered, like it happens every day! Forget what I said about Grandfather Tremain, I want to be like you! Low-key and as cold as ice! When that guy reached under his coat like he had a gun, you didn’t even budge. Yet you were prepared all the time. Uncle Jax, when will you start training me?”

“Let’s get out of the park alive first. Come on, let’s head back to the car.”

“Okay, but when do I start?”

“The training is rigorous. You have to really want it. Nobody is going to force you to continue.”


Okay!
When do I start?”

“You start now. Keep an eye out over your shoulder for those men. We don’t want them following us!”

“Okay! Okay, but when do I really start?”

“You’ll start in Atlanta, where you’re going to college. I’ll get someone to start you off in judo. You’ll have to set aside a minimum of six hours a week for two years. You’ll do this while you’re taking a full load at college and your grades have to be maintained at a B or better. I will loan you the BMW for as long as you maintain your grade level. After judo, you’ll switch to jujitsu for a year, then in your senior year you’ll switch to aikido. Every summer, depending upon your grades, I’ll send you wherever you want to vacation. If you’re still interested in more martial arts training when you graduate, I’ll send you to Brazil to learn how to fight with knives.”

Rhasan had trouble containing his excitement. “That’s great! What about shooting, huh? Do I get trained in that too?”

Jackson smiled. “You’ll get that too, if that’s what you want.”

“You won’t be sorry, Uncle Jax! You won’t be sorry you took me under your wing! I’ll make you proud! I promise!”

His nephew’s fervor brought a smile to Jackson’s face. He put his arm around Rhasan’s shoulder as they headed back to the car.

Rhasan walked alongside him for several minutes then asked, “Uncle Jax, can I ask a favor? Can we go out on the motor cruiser today?”

Jackson pointed at the sky. “It’s not good weather for sailing today; maybe another day.”

Rhasan persisted, “Can I at least see the boat today?”

Jackson nodded, unable to deny his nephew’s youthful exuberance.

The rain started to fall as they entered the parking lot. Within minutes a heavy downpour began and fell steadily as the van headed back to the dangers of civilization. Outside the van’s windows, visibility was poor. Jackson saw a parallel with his own inability to see into the future. The shape of things to come was blurred and indistinct. As the van drove over the Richmond Bridge, Jackson was pondering just how he would explain his decision to train Rhasan in the ways he had been trained to Samantha. He hoped that he had chosen the right path, that Rhasan would never be the subject of a late-night phone call.

Monday, July 12, 1982

J
ackson and Carlos were sitting around the table, drinking coffee and discussing Braxton when the phone rang. The jangle surprised both men. No calls were ever received at the house, but were arranged on various pay phones throughout the city. The house phone was reserved for emergencies. Carlos gave Jackson a questioning stare then went to the phone. He picked it up and said, “Good morning.” He listened for a few minutes and then said, “You can talk to me. I am empowered to speak for him.” Several more minutes passed then he handed the phone to Jackson. “It’s Deleon DuMont. He says he’s kidnapped Elizabeth.”

Jackson was on his feet instantly and snatched the receiver out of Carlos’s hands. “This is Jackson Tremain!”

The voice that issued out of the phone had a soft, southern twang.
“Deleon DuMont here. Nice to speak to you at last. I’m looking forward to meeting you, but I don’t want all the men in the parking garage around when we meet.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You know, the parking lot where you killed Jesse. I’ll bet both Jesse and Fletcher are dead now, aren’t they? Can’t say that I miss their bungling asses much.”

“What do you want?” Jackson demanded. “Do you have Elizabeth? If I don’t hear her voice in the next minute, I’m going to hang up!”

“Don’t be hasty. She’s here and still in good health for now.”

“You bastard, if you harm her, I’ll kill you. I’ll spend my life tracking you down! Let me talk to her now!” The phone went dead. Jackson turned to Carlos and said in an incredulous tone, “He hung up!”

Carlos stared at Jackson for a moment before he spoke. “Are you thinking at all? Have you given thought to the consequences of your words?”

Exasperated, Jackson asked, “What did I do now?”

“You gave away information again. After your outburst he knows now that he truly has a valuable commodity to bargain with and that she has the power to make you react without thinking.”

Jackson threw up his hands. “There’s too much to think about! I’m not a robot! This woman is not a commodity to me! I love her! I’m prepared to risk everything for her! Everything!” He fell silent as he was suffused with a terrible fear that he might not ever see Elizabeth alive again. When he began speaking again, his eyes were hard and his voice was cold. “I’m ready to risk everything! And I’m prepared to kill lots of people to get her back.”

Carlos nodded then said, “Then you must use your mind even more. You must control your emotions. I told you before this is not a game. If you rescue her, you’re going to have to kill this man and everyone he has working with him. Everything you do should be consistent with that goal. Remember, you are at war and you cannot rest until the enemy is dead.”

Jackson said nothing. The logic of Carlos’s words was unassailable. When he thought of the way he had acted so carelessly, he was embarrassed and angry. He recognized that he had never fully subscribed to the fact he was in a war. He had acted as if Carlos’s words had originated from a radio station that he couldn’t turn off. Now for the first
time, he truly tuned in to the message and he was ready to carry the conflict forward. No matter the cost in human life, he was determined to rescue Elizabeth or die trying.

He turned to Carlos and said slowly and clearly, “I ask you to continue to help me. I apologize for my stupidity and my foolish reluctance to take your advice to heart. I was wrong. That is all changed. This is war. I accept that and I want to win it. I swear to give your counsel the attention and respect it deserves.” Carlos nodded, a smile slowly spreading across his face. Jackson continued, “The most important thing to me right now is getting Elizabeth back. I’ll need your help and advice on the best way to do that.”

Jackson stopped, suddenly overcome with emotion. Tears formed in his eyes. Then anger welled up and turned his expression into a snarl. He growled, “If anything happens to her, I swear on my grandfather’s grave, I’ll leave a wide trail of blood!”

Carlos wondered aloud, “I wonder how he got this number? It looks like we have a hole in our security and we better plug it fast.”

“I gave Elizabeth this number to call in case of emergency.
I’m
the goddamned hole in the security! And I’ve really fucked up! DuMont was in the garage when I fought Jesse! I must’ve led him directly to her apartment from the drugstore. What a fool I’ve been!”

Carlos came over and put his hand on Jackson’s shoulder and said, “We will get your woman. When he calls again, I want you to try to keep him on the phone as long as possible. Maybe we can get some help from one of our technicians at the phone company to trace the call. Take a moment and compose yourself. When he calls again, find out exactly what he wants. Under what circumstances might he release the girl. Make sure you write down the location and times of any meetings he proposes. Don’t let him provoke you. Keep your cool. Now, tell me exactly what he said when he spoke to you.”

Later that afternoon, in a house on a hill in San Francisco’s Noe Valley, Jackson sat at the window and looked out over Twenty-fourth Street. He leaned forward and opened the window so that he could hear the sounds of the street. His thoughts wandered back to Elizabeth. He was thinking about the last time he had seen her at her apartment in Oakland, the night Jesse and Fletcher were dumped in the bay. The images of that evening floated slowly across Jackson’s mind, changing shape and meaning like clouds pushed by a strong but sporadic breeze.
He recalled her tears of sadness and disappointment. He knew without being told that she would never be released alive, whether the papers were handed over or not. Dark thoughts of fear and guilt soared around him like vultures. He was responsible for her capture. He had not acted with the forethought that the situation warranted. If he lost her, he would have no one to blame but himself.

The sounds of giggling children wafted up to him from the street below. He looked out the window again and saw a bunch of kids between the ages of eight and twelve playing dodgeball against the garage door of a neighboring house. Their rich and infectious laughter only increased the somber weight on his shoulders. He had made a lot of stupid mistakes since his grandfather had died. He could almost see the old man looking up from hell and shaking his head disgustedly. Jackson had undermined the strength of his battle position. He remembered his grandfather saying countless times as he was growing up, “Never underestimate the doggedness of the enemy!”

Deleon had not called back until it was nearly noon. In the intervening hour and a half, Carlos had his contacts set up a trace on the phone. Then he mobilized both Jackson and Theresa to pack all personal possessions and prepare to move. He reasoned that once the DuMonts had the phone number, it was merely a question of time before they had the address.

When the call was received, Jackson was in the midst of packing. He picked up the phone and heard Elizabeth’s voice scream out in pain. The sound cut into him like a knife. Yet Jackson controlled himself and gave no indication of his seething anger. Deleon asked a number of questions about the certificates and corporation papers. Jackson answered as if he had the papers in his possession. A meeting was arranged for Thursday. Despite Jackson’s urging for something sooner, Deleon would not move the date. When he hung up, Jackson threw back his head and roared out his frustration. He wanted to pound Deleon’s face until he beat him senseless. After giving voice to his anger, Jackson stood panting, breathing deeply to fill his lungs, energizing the hatred he was beginning to feel. Then he returned to the task of packing with a cold dedication. After the trucks arrived, the Fulton Street house was vacated within the hour.

The silent turmoil of his thoughts was once again broken as peals of giggles and laughter rose from the children on the sidewalk below.
Jackson leaned out of the window so that he could watch them play. They aroused thoughts of the family that he wanted to have with Elizabeth. In order for those dreams to be realized, he had to rescue her.

The only opportunity to save her lay in surprising the kidnappers. He needed to attack their headquarters within twenty-four hours. He began pacing back and forth. For the strike to be a success, every detail had to be worked out to the letter. There could be no mistakes. He had to be ready to kill without hesitation. The monstrosity of the task before him was daunting and he knew that the odds against his achieving his goal were high. There were more squeals of laughter and giggling from the children, but the carefree sound of their play now tore at his heart. He closed the window, shutting out the sounds of joy that were still rising up from the street below.

He thought of Braxton, Tree, and DiMarco. They wanted war. He would give them war. There would be no quarter. He would kill them all. Immediately after hanging up the phone with Deleon, Jackson had told Carlos that he wanted some DuMont hostages. Following a brief discussion, Carlos agreed to dispatch a couple of men to New Orleans to kidnap Deleon’s father. Next, Jackson wanted to question Tree and Braxton to determine whether they knew where Deleon was hiding, and he made it clear that he wanted the questioning to be prompted by pain. Carlos contacted his men in the field to find out where those two men were.

Other books

A Perfect Mess by Zoe Dawson
Children of a Dead Earth Book One by Patrick S Tomlinson
Blue Desire by Sindra van Yssel
Scarlet and the Keepers of Light by Brandon Charles West
The Harvester by Sean A. Murtaugh
Floors: by Patrick Carman
Throw in the Trowel by Kate Collins
The Critchfield Locket by Sheila M. Rogers