L A Woman Page 13

  Shadows slipped across my face. John Wesley and Ajax Berenko stood above me. Berenko held an AK-47 and smiled as he looked at Magilla. I tried to move my hand and a finger twitched.

  Berenko saw it and stepped on my hand, grinding it into the pavement. “Don’t move, funny man.”

  I croaked, “Closer.”

  He grinned as if this was all a big joke, and then squatted beside me.

  I spat blood in his face. Ajax jerked back and John Wesley stuck his pistol between my eyes.

  Ajax said, “No, no.” John Wesley stood up.

  “Be my pleasure to do it,” John Wesley said.

  Using his handkerchief to wipe his face clean, Ajax said, “He’s not worth it. We’ll take the girl someplace where I can work on her and get what she knows. This clown and his pussy partner, they’re nothing.”

  I croaked, “Gonna…”

  “Sure,” Ajax said, then his boot flew toward my face and I fell into darkness.

  CHAPTER 16

  I came up out of a fog to see Emma Storm on TV, pointing at Shamu, half-buried in a small hill of dumpsters.

  She said, “This is where the carnage erupted earlier today when my friends,” Emma stopped a moment and gathered herself together, “My friends Hondo Wells and Ronny Baca were set upon by more than a dozen heavily armed criminals.”

  I looked around and saw I was in a hospital room, with a nurse on one side of me writing on a clipboard.

  Archie sat in a chair by the window and Vick Best sat beside me, holding my hand.

  Both of them watched the TV and didn’t realize I was awake.

  I croaked to Vick, “Does this mean we’re going steady?”

  His eyes lit up, then he let go of my hand. “You turd,” he said. “You’re gonna make me and Archie old before our time.”

  I let the opening for a great zinger go by. I cleared my throat and said, “Hondo?”

  Archie came over to stand by the bed and said, “He’s in ICU. They won’t let us see him. I talked to the Doctor and he said Hondo hasn’t regained consciousness. They aren’t sure of the damage.” Archie ran a hand through his hair and said, “Until he comes out of it they won’t know.”

  His look told me the rest. I said, “And there’s a chance he won’t come out of it.”

  “Yeah.”

  The weight in my chest felt so heavy I almost couldn’t breathe. I changed the subject, “And Jett…anything?”

  Vick said, “We’ve got people looking, but no, nothing on her or on Berenko or Wesley or any of their men.”

  “How’d you know who it was?”

  “You told us what happened when you were on the way here.”

  “I did?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Less than an hour. Not long.”

  I thought of Berenko torturing Jett and knew that an hour could be way, way too long.

  I said, “Thanks, Vick. I mean it.”

  “I’d do it for anybody. Don’t think you’re special or anything.”

  “I’d kiss you if I could get up,” I said.

  Vick stood. “I gotta go. Check on you two later.”

  He left and I looked across at Archie.

  “Thanks, Arch.”

  “No problem. I gotta keep my actors in top shape. It’s purely business.” Archie winked at me. He said, “This girl, Jett. She’s in big trouble.”

  “Big.”

  “I know Vick’s alerted the LAPD as well as his S.O. and they’re looking, but Ronny, you’ve always been good at this kind of stuff, you and Hondo both. Faster than the cops can be, I think.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  The nurse left the room and Archie said, “They want to keep you overnight to make sure you’re okay. Personally, I think you need to start doing what you do. She doesn’t have until tomorrow.”

  I motioned for him to close the door, then got up and staggered to the closet for my clothes.

  Archie said, “I brought you new ones. The others were ripped to shreds.”

  “Thanks.” I sat on the bed and dressed. When I finished I said, “You drive your Corvette here?”

  Archie tossed me the keys. “Go save her.”

  I snuck up to ICU and found Hondo. No one was in his room, so I slipped inside and stood beside him. His face was pale, his breathing shallow. I put my hand on his head and it felt cool, almost cold. I whispered, “For you, I will find her.”

  I stood there for a long moment, then went to his closet and rummaged through his clothes, or what was left of them. Hondo had said they “Got it” when he was at the bus station, so that was what I hoped to find. It didn’t take long.

  In his back pocket was a postcard of the HOLLYWOOD sign on Mount Lee. I looked at it, and then ran my thumb across the image. A small round indentation, like that made with the tip of a ballpoint pen was directly below the W. There was no writing on the back. I put the postcard in my pocket and left.

  **

  I parked in front of our office and hobbled like an arthritic old man to the door. I fumbled with my keys before finding the office key, then I unlocked the door and went inside.

  I dug my big Sherlock Holmes style magnifying glass out of the desk, and studied the postcard, paying special attention to the indentation below the W. Even with the magnifying glass, it was hard to make out. The imprint had been made with something small like a fine point pen, but there was no ink in the hole.

  I thought about it for a second, then realized what I held was a treasure map. John Sunday left this map to show where he buried the treasure that everyone wanted but no one could find, except me.

  “Eureka,” I said. Then I pursed my lips and said, “What exactly is Eureka, anyhow?”

  One thing I knew, I didn’t have the luxury of time. I had to find it, and fast. I looked at the postcard again. I needed to go there, right below the W, in the No-Trespassing area. I would have to sneak in unobserved to the Hollywood sign, which was anchored on the side of the mountain in full view of most of Los Angeles. I knew they had nine or ten surveillance cameras monitoring the area, plus park rangers, plus a chain-link fence and an occasional LAPD helicopter. My respect for John Sunday went up another notch, because that meant he got into the place and hid…whatever it was, and got out without anyone seeing him.

  I needed to retrieve it the same way, and fast. Then I’d have something to bargain with for Jett’s life; that is if I could find Berenko. I thought about it for a while and came up with a plan.

  **

  “Say, Holmes,” Atticus said as I pulled into the car lot.

  “You three off work?” I asked.

  Oscar said, “Just got off. So, how are you doin’? We saw it on TV.”

  “I’m okay.”

  Atticus said, “We saw where they killed Magilla. Man, I didn’t think that was possible, unless, you know, maybe with a cannon. And your friend Hondo was hurt, too. How is he?”

  “Not good.”

  “And the girl?”

  “That’s why I’m here. I need your help. But it’ll mean breaking some laws.”

  “And you’re going after the guys who banged up our baby, right?” Tomas said.

  “Your baby?”

  “Your truck, Holmes.”

  “Oh, right.”

  Atticus looked at his cousins, who nodded. Atticus said, “We’re in. What do we get to do?”

  “Can you follow me to Griffith Park, up to the stables? I’ll explain it all there.”

  “We’ll be right behind you,” Atticus said.

  As I drove toward Griffith Park, my phone rang. It was David Gleason.

  I said, “Hello.”

  “Ronny, I heard what happened. How is Hondo?”

  “He’s still in ICU.”

  I could hear him shuffling papers, then he said, “I don’t know how to say this, other than just saying it. The gears are rolling on our movie, and production starts tomorrow. Because of the secrecy i
ssue, we’re going to sequester the actors for rehearsals.”

  I sighed and said, “I understand.”

  “If Hondo’s in ICU…well, you know.”

  I said, “You can’t let his being in the hospital stop production.”

  “There’s too much money. But even if Hondo can’t be in it, we’d still like you to be with us tomorrow. It’s a major, major opportunity for you.”

  “I understand, but the answer is no. My friend may die, and Jett Sunday is missing. They’ll be my priority.”

  Gleason said, “That’s what I thought. One other thing, I talked to my boss before I made this call and we both figured this would be your answer. He said to pass on to you that he understands. He also said to tell you there will be other movies and other chances for you and Hondo, and he hopes to see you two audition for his projects in the future.”

  I said, “Can I ask a favor?”

  “What?”

  “The two actors that auditioned right after us, Bob and Dave?”

  “I remember them.”

  “I would appreciate it if you could give them our parts in your movie.”

  He was silent a moment, “I’ll give them another look. I can’t promise more than that.”

  “Thanks, David. Tell your boss thanks, too.”

  “I will. Good luck, Ronny.”

  He hung up and I put the movie business in the back of my mind and turned into Griffith Park toward the horse stables.

  **

  “So we’re going up behind the Hollywood sign?” Atticus asked as we walked along the trail.

  I adjusted the straps on my small rucksack, “Yeah, I’ll need for you guys to make a diversion.”

  Oscar did a stutter step and said, “Hombre, what we need is a diversion from all the horse poop on this trail.”

  Tomas said, “It’s like doing hopscotch going up here.”

  Just don’t pick up anything green, ese.” Atticus said, and they all laughed and bopped fists.

  Once at the top, I moved off and left them to it. They didn’t take long. The three of them wormed their way around the chain link fence and down the hill, near the H in HOLLYWOOD. They started hooting and chasing each other around and throwing dirt into the air, making dust clouds that floated across the hill face.

  I watched the only two park rangers on duty heading toward them, so I moved into the brush, took out my camouflage shirt and pants, and slipped into them. I wormed my way under a small washout under the fence and belly-crawled downhill, staying in a shallow, flat-bottomed ravine until I stopped directly under the W. It only took me a minute to find the softened earth where John Sunday had buried his package. Six inches down, I hit the top of a Tupperware bowl.

  I dug it free and opened the lid. Inside were three one-gallon Ziploc bags, each one crammed full of small, black plastic-and-metal things, each one about the size of a honeybee. I put the bags back in the Tupperware bowl and stuck the whole thing in my ruck, then refilled the hole.

  Atticus, Tomas and Oscar were hooting and laughing and dodging around, evading the park rangers. I belly crawled back up the ravine and under the fence, then changed to my hiking clothes and got out of there.

  Just before I went out of sight on the trail, I looked down the hillside. Atticus looked up at me and gave me a big grin.

  I flashed him a quick thumbs-up and trotted down the trail. On the third step, my foot skidded through horse poop.

  **

  I parked the Corvette at the far edge of Archie’s parking lot for a little privacy. I opened the trunk, retrieved one of the bee-sized things from the Tupperware bowl and carried it to our office. I pulled out the magnifying glass and peered at it. I knew it was some sort of electronic gadget, but that was all. The chip was black, with small glints of minute copper wire at the edges, a needle-like nose that was a third as long as the body, and what looked like some sort of dragonfly-styled gossamer wings folded like origami on top of it.

  I called CIA Agent Harris. When he answered, I sang in my best Johnny Rivers voice, “Se-cret AY-gent Man, they’ve given you a numbah and taken away yo name.”

  “Baca, I should have known. Where’s Jett Sunday?”

  “Wow, I appreciate all the concern about us.”

  “I’m sorry for what happened to you and your friend. But this is a matter of national security.”

  “Okay then, answer a few questions for me.”

  He hesitated, “What do you mean?”

  I said, “I need to know what they’re after-what Berenko’s after. No bullshitting around here.”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “So you won’t mind if I give them what I find.”

  “You found them? Where, when?”

  I lied and said, “I haven’t yet but I’m getting close. What I need from you is what-it-is.”

  “It’s classified.”

  I was tired of the runaround, and Jett didn’t have any time to waste. I said, “Get your ass over to my office. Don’t bring anyone with you. Don’t come wired. Then we will talk.”

  I hung up, still pissed at the government rules of play that caused so many problems.

  **

  He was there in ten minutes. I sat down across from him and shoved the chip across the table, along with the magnifying glass. “What is it?” I asked.

  He touched it, looked off for a while, then back at me. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small digital voice recorder and pushed the OFF button, then put it on the desk.

  “Okay, I’m going to level with you.”

  “Jett’s life is hanging on the minutes we let tick by, so I’d like to hear what you have to say, faster.”

  He touched the black plastic piece on the desk and said, “This is a MAV.”

  I said, “One of DARPA’s babies. The Defense Advanced Research Project Agency. I didn’t want you to think I was just pulling letters out of my butt. I know what they stand for.”

  He blinked, then said, “I keep forgetting your background. Yes, this is one of DARPA’s ‘Babies’, as you put it.”

  I said, “And MAV stands for Miniature Aerial Vehicle, so now I’m up to date and we both get high marks in Acronyms one-oh-one. Keep going.”

  He touched the small MAV, “These models were a near-future concept until ten months ago. Then they suddenly became reality, thanks to one man. He created this.”

  I said, “This one’s not rotary powered for flight, and it’s a hell of a lot smaller than anything I’ve ever heard of.”

  “You’re right. A quantum leap in design. These are the ultimate MAVs, both for their size and because they don’t use rotary mechanisms for flight.”

  “I saw. These things have wings.”

  “Yes. The inventor used a combination of new materials and some revolutionary mechanical nanotechnology.”

  I asked, “What can they do?”

  Harris said, “There are multiple uses. These can spy for you. They have GPS, miniature cameras capable of disseminating real time motion picture capture. They can be equipped with other things as well, including instruments that would allow them to be used for, well, for sanctions.”

  “Say it straight,” I said, “You mean assassinations. How?”

  “The needle tips can inject poison, like a bee that stings its target.”

  I said, “If they can do that, then they can be used to spread biological diseases, too, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “How bad could it get, worse case scenario?”

  Harris said, “Biological? Ten thousand to one. That’s optimal, though.”

  “One MAV could infect and kill ten thousand people?”

  “Yes, that’s calculating the exponential spread of the disease from the ground zero target.”

  “How far?” I said.

  “What, how far can they fly?” I nodded. Harris said, “My understanding is twenty miles, one way in a low wind environment of, say, less than eight miles per hour. Higher than that and they are adversel
y affected. Winds of thirty-plus can destroy them, tear the wings off and ruin aerodynamics. So under ideal conditions, it would be a range of ten miles or less so they have a chance of getting the MAV back.”

  “Wow, we’d sure want that, wouldn’t we?” I said.

  “Yes, we would.”

  “Okay Harris, how much are they worth?”

  “To one of the terrorist organizations? About one hundred thousand dollars apiece.”

  “How many are missing?”

  “All of them. Three thousand.”

  I thought, a hundred thou times three thousand…I didn’t let him see me swallow. I said, “How come there aren’t any more being made?”

  “The inventor kept all his information private. He was a genius, kept it in his head. And…someone killed him.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Yes, so if you’ve found them, I must ask you to turn them over to me. It’s a matter of national security.”

  “What if I find them and don’t turn them over?”

  He looked at me for several seconds, “If we find out, we’ll arrest you. But that won’t be your biggest problem. Staying alive will.”

  “Good to know. I’ll keep looking then.”

  Harris bit his lower lip, “Baca, our official directives are to put first priority on locating the MAVs. If we find them first, the incentive to find Jett Sunday drops to zero.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. I’ve been with the Agency for twenty-five years and my personal belief is that we never leave any of the Agency family at someone’s mercy. I know you don’t like me, but if you need help, give me a try. I’ll do what I can.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, you want to give me back the MAV?”

  “No, and this will conclude our conversation, unless you find the rest of them…or Jett Sunday.”

  As soon as Secret Agent Man Harris left the room, I picked up the phone and dialed. When Emma answered I said, “Ready to win that Pulitzer?”

  “Ronny! Are you all right? How’s Hondo? Where’s Jett? Are you all right?”

  I said, “I’m okay. Hondo’s in ICU and Jett is still missing.”

  “Oh Ronny, I am so sorry.”

  “Emma, can you do me a big favor?”