Naked Dragon (19 page)

"Harris, I need to speak to you a minute."

Already knowing what it was about, Dave smiled and approached him.

"Look, I don't know how you'll feel about this," Sgt. Wilson began, as if he were giving him bad news.

"It's fine, sarge," Dave said, smiling.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say. You won't think it's fine when—"

"No, no, sarge," Dave interrupted, "I do know. I don't mind."

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Sgt. Wilson straightened up his back and gave Dave a quizzical look. "We talkin' bout the same thing?"

Dave smiled and nodded. "You want me to go on those homicide scenes."

"How the hell do you know? Only me, the captain, and the assistant chief know that."

Suddenly sensing a faux pas, Dave felt his face heat up.

"Uh ... I think someone mentioned it. Uh..."

"Who? We were very tight lipped about it, Harris. We didn't want the rest of the group to feel they weren't capable or up to it. Who told you?"

Knowing any comment would be followed up with more questions, Dave said, "I, uh, I bumped into that FBI agent."

"Which one? When?"

"Skinner. He told me."

A raised eyebrow of skepticism followed. "You two seeing each other socially?"

Trapped and in need of gnawing off his foot to get away, Dave tried to make it sound as casual as possible when he replied, "No, sarge, we just ran into each other by accident yesterday and he told me."

To Dave's relief, instead of delving further, Sgt. Wilson said, "Then you're okay with it?"

"Yes, sarge. I'm fine. No problem."

"Good man. You know the captain appreciates it. Too many other cops are getting sick and he needs to do some massive debriefing and counseling for them. He hates spending money on that if he can prevent it. Oh, you need to go?"

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"No. I'm okay." Dave checked his watch. "Roll call." He gestured to the room.

Sgt. Wilson nodded at him, but Dave noticed that curious gaze follow him as he entered the roll call room.

Officer Kurosawa greeted him when he sat down next to her. "You in trouble? I noticed you talking to the sarge."

"Naa. I'm fine, Lisa. How are you?"

"Not ready for another murder. That's how. Why can't they find this guy? I don't get it?"

"Me neither. But he's one slippery dude."

"I'll say. Oh, well, maybe today."

"Yes. Maybe today."

* * * *

Robbie instructed Agent Green to drive up to Beacon Hill for the first half of their day, and then later, if they didn't get anywhere, to go back to the International District. They parked on the street near the last two victims' location and adjusted their radios to the south air frequency. Walking ahead of the other two, Robbie scanned everything at once; the pedestrian traffic, the windows facing the street on Beacon Avenue South, and finally the vehicle traffic.

It was a lot to take in considering how busy the roadway was. Children screamed from a school playground, kicking a ball around the field, dogs barked, horns blew in the congested traffic, and airplanes roared overhead as they came in for take-off and landing at Sea-Tac and Boeing Field.

Robbie crossed the street quickly and leaned against a wire fence to check out the play area and see if anyone was 183

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lingering around the perimeter. Once he gave the surroundings a good look over, he continued southbound as if sniffing out his prey. The other two were chatting quietly, trying to keep up with him as he dodged and darted between cars when crossing the streets and ducked behind buildings to inspect alleys.

Some young Asian men were loitering around a youth center. They were the right age for the Dragon's victims.

Passing a few boys out front, Robbie entered the building and had a walk through of its interior. Just as he was coming out, Agent Skinner and Agent Green were coming in.

"Slow down, will ya?" Agent Skinner shouted as he allowed Robbie to exit the building.

"You two move too slow. It's not my problem."

"It will be when you need us!" Agent Green growled.

Ignoring the invitation to an argument, Robbie continued walking down the wide avenue. An area of parking appeared in the center median and continued for a short while until the road narrowed again. He crossed the two lanes to get to it just to take a look at the cars that were parked there. Before he could decide on which side of the lot to start at, a revving engine startled him. He spun around to see a very old and dented dark blue two-door hatchback coming straight for him.

To avoid being hit he leapt on the top of the hood as it came barreling in his direction. Holding on for dear life, he gripped the lip of the metal hood as it met the windshield and came face to face with his nemesis. As the car swerved side to side in an effort to shake him off, Robbie heard gun blasts behind him as the other two agents tried to shoot out the 184

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tires. He cringed, hoping they had good aim, then held the metal in a death grip as this maniac took to the street with a new six foot, two hundred pound hood ornament.

* * * *

Dave was just finishing up a report for a domestic disturbance when the central dispatcher came over the radio announcing a call to all frequencies. "...the victim is holding onto the vehicle's hood as the suspect tries to flee southbound on Beacon Avenue South. The vehicle is described as a two-door, dark blue Ford hatchback, license plate 555 VCR ... this comes back to a reported stolen vehicle, repeat, a stolen vehicle. Units are requested to set up containment..."

Dave's heart rate skyrocketed. He knew it had to be Robbie and the suspect had to be the Dragon. He just knew it. He flipped on his lights and sirens and flew like a bullet southbound trying to intercept them.

* * * *

His wounded shoulder was on fire as he tensed his muscles and clung onto the hood of that boiling hot flying car. The madman's face was bright red and completely devoid of anything human. His eyes were so wide and protruding, Robbie wondered if they would pop out on springs. As they zigzagged around parked cars and slow moving traffic, Robbie yearned to reach into his holster for his gun, but knew if he released his grip from the back end of the hood he'd fly off and most likely get hit by a car. He kept craning his neck 185

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behind them to see where they were going. Up and down curbs, barely missing pedestrians and children in strollers, this madman was being so careless Robbie knew someone was going to get hit. Sirens began to wail and it only served to make the Dragon more nervous.

"Give up!" Robbie shouted through the windshield. "You can't get away now!"

The rage was so intense from him, Robbie almost felt the flames seer his skin through the thick glass. His body jarred once again against the boiling hood as they rode up another curb. His jaw got whacked in the process as they rumbled over it and down again. He was growing tired and his grip was becoming fatigued. Looking behind him again, he tried to find a break in the traffic so he could leap off without getting run over. Then he realized they were headed directly for a telephone pole. "Shit!" Robbie tried to brace himself and drew his legs closer to his body to protect them. The impact was so intense it knocked him against the windshield fracturing it.

After the crash and the shock from it, it took Robbie a moment to react. Shaking his head as if to clear it, Robbie watched the madman getting out of the smoking wreck and running. Sliding off the hood, Robbie made it to his shaking legs and tried to run after him. Gripping his microphone he shouted out his call sign. "X-Ray 440 Adam, foot pursuit!

Eastbound from Beacon Hill Ave! I think it's Dearborn!"

Panting, trying to keep sight of him, Robbie drew his gun and shouted out to the man, "Stop, you fucking coward! Pick on someone other than little boys!" It was impossible to take aim as he raced after him, and the thought of stopping to get a 186

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clear shot wasn't going to work either. There were too many houses within the backdrop of the site of his gun.

* * * *

When Dave arrived on the Hill and found the stolen car wrapped around a telephone pole he grew sick for Robbie. An update came over the air where the foot chase was headed.

Squealing his tires again to back away from the accident scene, he took a corner on two wheels and almost clipped a tree as he did it.

"Where are you?" he shouted to no one, looking down every street. Someone requested the helicopter to get in the air for some help. A K9 unit came over the sound waves and asked for a location to begin a track. There was so much turmoil on the radio air and on the ground, no one could give anyone any good information.

Dave veered down a side street and slowed his speed so he could scan each house. "Where are you, Rob!" he screamed in frustration. Then to his astonishment, he spotted Robbie waving to flag him down at the end of the street. Dave hit the gas and flew towards him, then screeched to a halt when he arrived. Robbie opened the passenger door and was gasping for breath. "That way. I lost him."

Dave grabbed the microphone and advised the dispatcher he had the agent and a good place to start a track. He was acknowledged. Dozens of units flooded the area for containment as they waited for the dog to arrive.

After he'd taken care of that announcement over the air, Dave noticed Robbie holding his chest and growing pale. He 187

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threw the car's transmission into park and ran around the front of it towards him. Holding Robbie by his upper arms, he moved him back and sat him on a curb. "Let me call the medics."

"No. No, we need to find him."

"Geezuz, Robbie!" Dave tried to do a quick check of his arms and legs. "Let me get you some help!"

"Hang on, K9 is here." Robbie got to his feet, holding his chest through the thick vest. "There!" he shouted as the German Sheppard went ballistic in the back seat. "I lost him in that yard. That one."

The officer nodded and took the dog out of the back of his car. It immediately made a beeline for the correct house Robbie was pointing to. Two other units arrived and one of the cops ran with the K9 officer.

Dave grabbed Robbie to make him slow down. He was almost doubled over from the pain he was enduring. Dave grabbed his microphone off his shoulder and said, "Radio, get fire to my location. Victim is conscious and alert and suffering from chest pain."

"Copy."

"Sit down." Dave opened his passenger door and forced Robbie to sit. "Gezzuz, man, take a breath and slow down!

You've just gone for a joy ride on the hood of a fucking car!"

"We have to find him!" Robbie shouted in hysteria. "I had him! I fucking had him!"

"Where the hell did you find him? I cannot figure out how you always do." Dave looked back and noticed the black sedan had located them and parked behind his patrol car.

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"In that lot on the median on Beacon Ave. I was just going to take a look at the cars that were parked up there. I didn't even realize anyone was sitting in them. It's directly across from a youth service center. He must have been eyeing his next candidate. I was just about to have a look into each one when he came out of nowhere and nailed me. I would have been killed if I didn't jump on the damn hood. But, then I was stuck on it. I thought he was going to run over the damn pedestrians. Christ, David, he was all over the place trying to shake me off."

"The fact that you can keep finding him is uncanny," Dave said, then noticed the two agents standing behind him.

"Lost him again?" Agent Skinner teased.

"Yes. No thanks to you." Robbie removed his jacket so he could get the holster and vest off.

"You said to park and walk. So? We did and he was in a car. What the hell you want us to do? We'd rather stay in the car, Taylor," Agent Green said, then noticed the fire truck coming around the bend. "Where do you hurt?"

"My fucking ribs." Robbie rubbed his hand over them.

"Great." Agent Skinner cocked his ear to the radio to listen to the latest update.

"They find him yet?" Robbie asked as the firemen set their kit down and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

"No. K9 is still tracking," Dave replied and then sat down next to Robbie as he was checked out.

"They won't. He'll get away," Robbie said, grinding his jaw.

"He won't get away. The dog had him," Dave replied, trying to reassure him, but he knew Robbie was always right 189

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in these matters. As Robbie's shirt was stripped off and a handsome fire fighter was feeling his ribs through his gorgeous smooth skin, Dave was so turned on he was embarrassed and hoped no one knew. When Robbie gave him a quick sly smile, Dave wished he wasn't so transparent when it came to that man.

"You need to go to the hospital for x-rays to see if you've broken them," the fireman said.

"Crap. Not the hospital again," Agent Skinner moaned.

"I'll take him." Dave stood up off the curb.

"I'm not going anywhere until we catch that fucker!"

Robbie tried to stand quickly but then needed help getting to his feet.

"Just shut up and go get checked out. We'll handle it,"

Agent Green snarled.

"Come on, Robbie," Dave urged him quietly.

Grumbling profanity under his breath the entire time, Robbie sat in the passenger seat of Dave's patrol car. When he was settled a fireman handed him his belongings to hold on his lap. "Thanks, guys," Robbie shouted to the fire crew.

They waved at him, smiling.

Once again on radio, Dave got on the air and told the dispatcher he was en route to Harborview with the victim. He wondered how many people would finally notice he was this handsome agent's personal escort to the ER.

He was acknowledged by the dispatcher. Dave put the car into drive and began his journey back downtown to 9th Avenue. "I'm beginning to think you have nine lives, Agent Taylor."