Retribution ("M" Mystery) (12 page)

Jake adjusted the lens of his Mag light to a larger diameter. Only the fringe yellow of the circle of light touched the shadow, revealing flat black and a glint of metal. He brought the light to rest on a notch, or was it an odd shaped rock? He pushed through four inches of water toward the back of the cave and the strange rock. When he reached the back wall, the rock was higher then he thought. The metallic glint was directly overhead. When he readjusted his light to a tight focused circle, it became apparent that he was looking up at the end of metal box. He hitched up the suspenders on his waders and took a cautious step onto a conspicuously square, flat rock poking out of the sand floor. He directed the light on the box then panned the area around his feet, another rock revealed. He reached for a handhold on the wall, but it was too slippery, so he braced against it and took another step. This time he had to raise his foot waist high, pushing off with the other. He leaned his shoulder against the back wall to aim the light. The box was almost in reach.

There were no more footholds. If he could just stand on tip-toe he might reach the box with his fingers. Suddenly, his foot slipped and he was stroking the wall in search of a handhold until gravity pulled him away. Jake hugged himself and tucked his chin. His fall was cushioned by eight inches of water thanks to a rising tide.

The shadow retreated to its rock shelf, the metallic glint shrinking to blackness. He thrashed into a near sitting position, not before his waders took on water.

“Oh, shit.”

He shined his light on the back wall in an attempt to locate the box. Instead, he slipped again and ended up shining the light on the ceiling where it revealed two wires. He ignored the water lapping at his neck and filling his waders, as he tried to make sense of what he was looking at.

The shadow had crept out to the edge of the light, the metallic glint unsheathed. Jake held the light steady for fear of losing the wires then slowly followed them into a tunnel.

“What the hell?”

A small wave jarred his arm and doused his head reminding him that he needed to sit up.

“Jake, stop playing around in there.” It was Lemon, balancing on a rock at the mouth of the cave in an attempt to stay above the rising tide. Moments later he was laughing at the site of Jake, swimming through the air with his arms, pushing aside the in-coming tide of waist deep water.

“Lemon, you son-of-a-bitch, get down here and give me a hand.”

But his fellow officer just kept laughing and climbed to a higher rock. “Everyone’s in place and Ramos is wondering where you are, buddy.”

Inside the cave on a horizontal shelf at the base of a vertical shaft, a second wire was being attached to a battery sending electricity through the wires into the sub-basement, basement, and long forgotten wall space, signaling the incendiary devices that it was time.

Chapter Thirty-one

Ramos shuffled the deck
for the third time, then laid out his favorite solitaire configuration for his tenth game. A soft pop brought him to an upright sitting position, hand instinctively reaching for his gun. Frozen in place he strained to hear a second pop, or the sound of footfalls. Nothing. The peephole in the door revealed an empty hall.

Buck and M felt a temperature change seconds before the wall on either side of the entry hall door bust into flame. M staggered back from the front hall when she saw the paint begin to peel, but had only seconds before the entire wall was consumed by flame.

Ramos decided as long as he was up, he’d answer the call of nature and headed for the bathroom. He reflexively jerked his hand back from the doorknob. Before he could look at the burned flesh, the bathroom door burst into flame.

M ran into the kitchen where she’d seen a fire extinguisher, but was driven out when flames shot up from the floor.

Buck stood trapped in the center of the living room. Flames raced up the hall that led to the bathroom, while the entire kitchen was awash in bright, orange flames. Drawing his Glock, he spun around and emptied the clip at the window, knocking out the remaining glass with a couch cushion.

Ramos was on the radio. “It’s a trap. Buck, M, get out, now!”

The hall walls were an inferno. M twisted her hair into a knot and sprinted, slamming a shoulder into the flaming door, bursting into the hall where the floor should have been.

Hearing gunfire and the sound of shattering glass Ramos understood what Buck must be doing in the next room and raised his military issue

.45 and took out the windowpane at close range.

Without a second look, Buck dropped the fifteen feet to the gravel lot below, getting to his feet in time to watch Ramos do the same, but without getting up. He rushed to his side.

Ramos was trying to stand.

“Your knee?” Buck said.

Ramos threw an arm over his shoulder.

“Ankle.”

The overwhelming stench of burning hair brought M to consciousness. The roaring in her ears and the light so bright that she wasn’t sure her eyes weren’t already open, roused her. It came back in a rush, the stakeout at the hotel, the fire, the tiny voice from the radio squawking that it was a trap. Then she was through the door and falling. The scream brought her fully awake. It was hers. Every cell in her body felt like it was on fire. She peeled off her blazing black cotton sweatshirt and franticly rolled over and over, until the flames around her hips and legs were extinguished. She lay on her back, trying to make sense of her surrounding.

When she looked up, there was no ceiling, only what was left of a superstructure holding up two boilers. Flaming debris fell seemingly from the sky setting one of the giant support beams aflame and dropping embers all around her. Where the hell was she? If the boilers were in the basement and she was looking up at them, she must be in a sub-basement. She had to get out before the boilers dropped.

Crouching into a duck walk, she moved around burning wood of every dimension, stumbling then catching herself, turning to avoid a flaming timber. A clear path seemed to open up and she headed across the center of the floor, when her ankles were hit with a cool breeze. Instinctively looking down, she saw that she was on a stone floor. She began swatting the air as flaming cinders bounced off her head and shoulders. She was about to scream when she spotted the wooden hatch in the middle of the floor. In a headlong dive, she slid across the stone to the wood patch. Jamming her fingers into a slot on one side, she pried to no avail, doubling her effort when she heard the metallic boom of one of the boilers moving.

Quickly, she stepped away and looked for something to pry with, but everything was on fire. It was when she looked back that she saw the other slot in the hatch. Standing up, she slid her hands on either side of the square and lifted it out revealing a gaping hole. No ladder.

When the stone floor shuddered, she knew the superstructure had given way. Again she looked around, this time for anything she could use to lower herself into the hole, but the only thing not burning was the floor she was standing on and that was quickly being covered with burning embers. From the corner of her eye, she saw a huge blazing timber fall. She lurched out of the way only to have it hit where she’d been standing and bounce into the hole. In that split second of raw light she saw several handholds carved into the rock. Without hesitation she slid over the edge into the blackness, feeling with her toes for what she hoped would be other handholds.

Ten feet below the lip of the hole, one leg began an involuntary shake, she’d heard rock climbers refer to it as sewing machine leg. She had to find a way to rest, and quick. She counted breaths to ward off panic then let the leg hang until the shaking stopped. This allowed her to descend a few steps at a time until she felt the other leg tensing up. Inspired by desperation, she began to scramble. She might fall, but she’d fall for certain if she didn’t reach the bottom before the other leg cramped.

Embers fell around her like rain and she could almost see the next handhold instead of feeling for it. A flaming two-by-eight dropped down the shaft, striking a stone and sailing just behind her head. She looked down expecting it to strike bottom and give her an idea of how far she had to go. The beam hit something just below her position then rattled around in the shaft until it sizzled out far below. Risking everything, hoping for a ledge, she turned and looked just below her feet on the opposite side of the shaft where the beam had struck leaving some burning embers.

Chapter Thirty-TWO

Ramos spun like a pinwheel
with Buck at the center. The parking lot was packed with on-lookers, held back by the fire department.

“Christ, I don’t see M.”

He waved the fire chief over. “What the hell are you waiting for?” He pointed at where the window used to be at the end of the hall. “Get a ladder. I’ve got somebody trapped up there.”

The fire chief took a step back.

“Sorry, Ramos, no can do. Unnatural cause, that fire’s burning hotter than anything I’ve ever seen.”

Ramos waved him off and began scanning the crowd until he spotted Jake and Lemon helping with crowd control. Everyone had to shout over the roar of the fire. Buck was half urging, half pushing his boss toward an ambulance when two firemen grabbed Ramos from either side and carried him the rest of the way.

Buck ran over shouting until both officers turned around.

“Jake, have you seen M?”

His eyes were like saucers despite dilated pupils.

“Buck, I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jake said. “One minute the hotel was near dark, then it was like someone lit a giant flare and flames began to shot out the windows.”

Buck grabbed the officer by the shoulders shaking him.

“Jake, Jake have you seen M?”

Lemon stepped up breaking Buck’s grip, and just shook his head, asking, “Ramos?”

Buck pointed at the ambulance then took off at a run for the corner of the hotel. Driven back by the heat, he broke into the crowd, scanning faces. Moving from person to person, describing M until he saw Thomas Seller. When he was close enough to be heard, he called his name. Seller turned around like he was standing on a lazy susan. One look and Buck knew any conversation would be useless. The hotel manager was in a deep state of shock. He continued circling the hotel and moving through the crowds, even as the fire department broke down their equipment.

From the highest point on the north end of town, where Spyglass Hill intersects Bay View, the old AMC Gremlin idled. Peter Yamato sat on the hood, drooping shoulder, his hand throbbing across the top where he stitched the slice made from the glass. He burned with fever but inside rejoiced as he watched the Dungeness Hotel burn. Retribution was near. Had he destroyed the Malmstrom seed? Perhaps. Would he return and make sure, destroying all authority when he did? Yes. But first he had to return to his master and heal.

A shout echoed across the parking lot. “Back, everyone back, she’s falling in on herself!”

Except for the former occupants who were gathered at the sidewalk, people shuffled out of the way, not wanting to miss a minute of the show. Buck stared glassy eyed at what he saw as M’s funeral pyre, tears glistening on his cheek in the firelight.

“Buck?”

He whirled at a familiar voice to find Ramos leaning on a young fireman.

“She’s gone, Buck.”

Peter climbed in the Gremlin but didn’t put it in gear, instead turned off the ignition. He played through his mind the image of the officer sweeping the cave with his light, finding a box, nearly exposing him. Twice he thought he would have to eliminate the intruder, two times fate had intervened. Still, he’d been forced to wait until the last minute. He couldn’t have allowed himself to be trapped. He’d fought a rising tide, swimming with an injured shoulder. But driven by Giri and a sense of nearing Retribution he’d made it out of the cave, having to swim away from the bluff and the burning hotel, around the point, barely able to pull himself onto the deserted beach. He shivered at the memory. What was in the box, was it really a box or just a shape created by the light? He reached down, turned the key and brought the engine to life. He depressed the clutch and ground the gears into first; when he pressed the accelerator the car hesitated then lurched forward. He hoped it would make it to San Francisco.

Chapter Thirty-three

The two men slumped
in the back of the cruiser sharing a common loss.

“You ready to go?” The officer driving them home said.

Neither spoke. Buck simply nodded. They rocked listlessly as the vehicle drove over the curb to avoid fire engines as it left the parking lot.

Buck felt a pressure on his wrist and looked over at Jake.

“What?”

Jake released his grip. “There’s something in the cave.”

Buck just shook his head. He didn’t want to think anymore. Every time he did the scenario ended the same way. M was dead.

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the tiny apartment complex where Jake lived. When he climbed out, he turned around and looked back in. Buck was still staring at the floor.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He didn’t hear a word Jake said.

The cruiser turned onto Clamshell and drove to the end of the block, stopping in front of Buck’s house. “You want me to go in with you?” the officer asked.

Buck looked out the window at his house. “No, I’ll be fine.”

The officer stepped around and opened the rear door. “I could put on a pot of coffee or something.”

Buck sat bolt upright and looked at him with blood shot eyes. “I said no.”

He slid out not looking back as he made his way up the walk. The cruiser waited until Buck slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

Everything had happened so fast. He walked down the hall to the bathroom peeling off his coat and shirt. The Greens’ murder, M hospitalized, Tessue’s decapitation and the message. He leaned over the sink and splashed water on his face as he thought of Amy. He removed his shoes and socks and let his trousers puddle around his ankles, stepped over to the shower letting the water run as hot as he could take, he let his mind go blank.