L A Woman Page 16

  Hondo said, “Let her go, its over.”

  Jett struggled but Berenko held her tight. He said, “Don’t move again,” then wiggled the thing in his hand close to her eye. I looked closer at it and a cold chill washed over me.

  Berenko held a small, clear plastic clip of some kind that had five MAVs inserted side-by-side like bullets in a machine gun ammo belt. The hair-fine needle tips glinted on each of them and one had a tiny drop of amber liquid oozing from it.

  Ajax moved in a slow circle, always keeping Jett between him and us. We mirrored his pace, keeping our distance the same. He said, “I see you looking, Baca. You recognize them, eh?” He wiggled the plastic and said, “Make a move and she’s dead, then you. They’re programmed to attack any person in front of them. One push on these,” he showed us the buttons on the back of the plastic holder, “And you’re all gone.”

  Hondo said, “Let her go, you can have me.”

  Jett said, “No! Shoot him, Hondo! Shoot him!”

  Berenko tightened his arm on her throat and she stopped. He wiggled the MAVs and said, “These are for immediate kills, so there’s no antidote once they strike. Keep any thought of heroics out of your mind.”

  Emma and Marcus ran into the room and Berenko spun to face them. Marcus was already filming when Ajax said, “You, woman, tell the police to stop on the bottom floor or I will kill everyone here.”

  Emma nodded and left the room. We heard her talking to the officers below. She returned and said, “They’ll give you five minutes to surrender, then they are coming in.”

  Ajax relaxed a little, but kept his circling walk going, so we did the same.

  I said, “What the hell are you doing, Ajax? Did you think you could take over the world?”

  Ajax said, “Maybe, if John Sunday hadn’t been around.” He shook Jett and said, “Your father…he was a great enemy. Very resourceful, very brave. In another time and place I think we might have been friends.”

  Jett said, “My father would never be the friend of a killer like you.”

  Ajax smiled at that, but kept circling.

  I needed to buy some time and said, “What happened? How did you beat John Sunday?”

  His eyes glinted and he smiled. Good, I thought, we have a bragger. He said, “After my men procured the MAVs and were preparing to take them to the airport, Sunday came out of nowhere, took out all four of my men, and stole the MAVs.

  We chased him through the city for most of the day, losing him several times, and then finding him again.” He shook his head and had a half-smile while reliving the action. “I had forty men looking for him. Forty. He was very, very adept.”

  I said, “He almost made it, didn’t he?”

  “Sunday was a magnificent foe. But in the end, John Wesley killed him.”

  Hondo said, “And then you couldn’t find the MAVs.”

  “So we started our search for his daughter, who we were sure knew where they had been hidden. We went to their house in Culver City, but she was already gone.”

  I said, “And now here you are, trapped with no way out. So why don’t you surrender to us and we’ll call it even.”

  Berenko said, “You’re wrong. I have a way out.”

  “Don’t tell me,” I said, “You’re gonna say, ‘Beam me up, Scotty,’ right?”

  He sneered, “The reason John Wesley isn’t inside the mansion to take care of you is that he’s preparing insurance for our escape.”

  “You better make that past tense, Ajax. Your cowboy is toast out there on the lawn.”

  Berenko leaned back so he could look out beyond the balcony at the mansion grounds. His face darkened, then he said, “Then he accomplished his mission.”

  “What mission?” Hondo said.

  Berenko angled himself to face Marcus and his camera, but not exposing his flank to Hondo or me. The magnificence of Los Angeles spread out behind him and he knew it, maneuvering his footing so the background would play better. Ajax stopped with his heels only an inch or two from the big leaf blower, but he wasn’t aware it was behind him.

  He talked into the camera, “There are devices planted in the cockpit of a passenger jet at LAX.”

  He glanced at the wall clock and said, “This jet is now airborne, with a full load of passengers. These devices will cause the death of everyone aboard unless my demands are met: One LAPD helicopter will carry us to a location that I will disclose to the pilot. If any measures are taken to stop or detain me in any way…I will push this button,” He showed us a second button, a red one, on the plastic, “And all the passengers on that plane will die.”

  Marcus held the camera steady, but I saw the sweat on his face. Ajax said, “You have five minutes to meet my demands.”

  I started laughing.

  Berenko’s eyes narrowed. “This is funny to you?”

  I laughed so hard, tears came to my eyes. I got a little control and said, “Do you not ever watch TV? It’s been all over the news. I saw it playing on the TV downstairs when I came in the house.” I pointed at Emma and Marcus, “They were there, they know. That’s why they followed John Wesley here, to get the rest of the story.”

  Ajax was agitated, and getting mad. He said, “What are you talking about?”

  I slapped Hondo on the shoulder and said, “Can you believe this guy?”

  Hondo went with it and grinned, saying, “Nope.”

  I said, “The FBI was at the airport on another stakeout and saw John Wesley. They had him on camera the whole time he was doing his thing. Then they went on the plane and made it safe.”

  Ajax said, “If that’s true, why didn’t they arrest him?”

  I shook my head as if I couldn’t believe his stupidity. “Duh, Ajax. Because they knew he would lead them to you.” I spread my hands and said, “Which he did. How do you think everyone got here so fast?”

  He wasn’t sure; I could see it in his eyes. I nodded at Emma and said, “She was there. Tell him, Emma.”

  Emma stayed cool and said, “He’s right.” She pointed at Marcus’ camera and said, “We still have it right here on film. We can show it to you if you like.”

  While Ajax focused on Emma, Hondo and I eased a step closer. Ajax didn’t know what to say to her. He looked at Emma, then at me, then back at Emma before saying, “Bring the camera here and show me.”

  We moved another step closer.

  Emma said, “No sir. Not without you granting us an exclusive interview first.”

  “I will give no interviews.”

  “I guess you don’t get to see what’s on the camera.”

  Ajax said, “Then I will kill the girl.”

  Emma said, “Fine, we’ll get it on tape and use that instead of your interview. Either way, we get the news.”

  The sounds of feet suddenly sounded on the stairs. The police were coming at a run, and I knew when they entered, Jett Sunday would die.

  CHAPTER 20

  Ajax glanced at the hallway door and he moved the MAVs closer to Jett’s eye. Then he inched his finger towards the buttons.

  I wasn’t sure if Hondo and I were close enough, but we didn’t have any more time. I said, “Look Ajax, you want the copter, you’ll get it, so don’t-” and on the next word, I looked straight into Jett’s eyes, “-faint…in the excitement.”

  Jett sagged with her full weight, throwing Ajax off balance. We jumped toward them but Jett wasn’t through. As Ajax was pulled forward, Jett planted her feet and pushed hard with her legs, ramming the top of her head into his jaw. Berenko’s teeth clicked together and his eyes glazed. Hondo and I leapt at them.

  Ajax staggered back and his heels hit the blower, throwing him off balance. Jett pushed her body into him and Ajax instinctively threw his hands out to catch himself as he fell.

  I reached them first and grabbed Jett by the arm, jerking her away. I used her momentum like a Roller Derby Queen to sling myself shoulder first into Berenko’s chest. I hit him hard and Hondo slammed into both of us. Out of the corner of my
eye, I saw Agent Harris leading a dozen police officers into the room.

  Berenko was quick and he jabbed the MAVs at my eye. I blocked his wrist and twisted just as Hondo slammed an elbow at his face, then we hit the floor so hard the wind was knocked out of me.

  Almost as soon as I hit, Hondo grabbed me by the belt and jerked me away from Berenko as if I weighed about five pounds.

  Hondo started to grab the MAVs, but then I saw him stop, look at Ajax for a second, and stand up. My eyes watered and I tried to get some air in my lungs but was only making squeaking sounds.

  Agent Harris came over to stand beside me. He had his pistol in his hand. He patted my back as I stayed bent over, hands on knees, and looked at Ajax Berenko.

  The MAVs, still in their plastic sleeve were imbedded needle-first in his tongue and cheek. A tiny bit of foam issued from one corner of his mouth. The buttons were untouched.

  Marcus whooped and ran over to me, “That was totally Awesome!” He pounded me on the back and I didn’t have enough breath to tell him to stop.

  **

  After what seemed like a never-ending rotation of giving similar statements to every law enforcement agency in the world, we were finally allowed to leave the mansion when Harris stepped in and told everybody else that we were through giving statements.

  When one of the honchos on the LAPD, a guy named Hodgins objected, Harris said, “If you officers will copy each other’s notes, you’ll have it all, plus some. I’m sure Ms. Storm will also allow you access to the camera footage.” Emma nodded and said, “We can make all of you copies if you’d like.” It looked to me like she remembered the lesson Archie had given her.

  Harris continued, “And Hodgins, quit worrying about how much face time you’re getting on the news, okay? You’re just not that good looking.” Hodgins blushed and eased to the back of the crowd.

  Harris turned to Hondo and me. He swept his hand to indicate everything, “I don’t know how you did it, but thanks, for all of us.”

  Hondo said, “Are you still thinking of arresting Ronny?” I could tell by Hondo’s stance that if Harris said Yes, Hondo was going to clock him and scoot me away to safety. He’s that kind of guy.

  Harris scratched his chin, looked at me and said, “Anybody that saves a million lives, I’ve got no beef with them. If anything, I figure I owe them one.” He gave us a little nod, “Why don’t you two heroes get out of here.”

  Gaylord was another story. When he saw the GTO and its scars from hitting the iron gates, I thought he was going to have a stroke.

  “What-what-what?” He said.

  As Emma and Marcus pulled up and got out of the van, I said, “These people want to talk to you.”

  “But-but-but…” Gaylord touched the GTO’s hood as if it was a favorite pet that had been wounded.

  I said, “You need to be a tad bit more eloquent than that.”

  Marcus filmed and Emma walked to Gaylord and shook his hand on camera, “We’re talking with Mr. Gaylord Parker, owner of Gaylord’s Magic Auto Repair.” She turned those baby blues on him and continued, “Mr. Parker, may I call you Gay?”

  I coughed. He said, “I…I don’t usually…that, that’s….”

  Emma oozed adulation as she kept her hand on his arm and talked to the camera, “Gay is one of the unsung heroes in stopping today’s terrorist attack on Los Angeles.” She pointed at the GTO, “His prize car, called a Lamb by aficionados-“

  Gaylord said, “Goat. It…it’s called a Goat, for GTO, sorta.”

  “Goat, yes. This extraordinary vintage vehicle was the means by which entry was gained to the terrorist headquarters,” Emma touched the scratches, “But as you can see, at a price.”

  She put her arm around Gaylord’s shoulder, “I want to thank you, Gay, you and your precious Goat, for the sacrifices you’ve made on behalf of all Angelinos.” She kissed him on the cheek and said to the camera, “Remember this man, Los Angeles. I’m Emma Storm, special correspondent, at Gaylord’s Magic Auto Repair, signing off and keeping it real in Los Angeles.”

  **

  It was full dark when we arrived at the office. Hondo and I had turned off our cell phones because of the constant ringing. As we got to the door, I unlocked it and said, “The phone’s ringing here, too.”

  “The price of celebrity,” Hondo said. We walked in and I sat behind my desk. Hondo slumped in his chair and Jett sighed as she sat on the corner of his desk. The message lights on the phones blinked.

  Jett said, “I don’t know about you two, but I’m whipped.”

  Hondo leaned forward in his chair and nodded. His head bandage showed red spots, and so did the back of his shirt. I said, “Were you let out of the hospital?”

  “Oh sure,” he said.

  Jett said, “You were not.”

  Hondo said, “I let myself out, same thing.”

  I said, “Since you’re leaking like a rusty bucket, maybe you should check back in.”

  He put his hand on Jett’s and said, “I have a private physician to tend to me.”

  Jett said, “Paramedic.”

  “Paramedic, right.”

  I said, “You’re a trained Paramedic?”

  Jett said, “Dad’s idea. He thought it might come in handy.”

  Hondo said, “I hear that.”

  Jett stood up and said to Hondo, “Let’s get you to your place so I can do those dressings right.”

  They left, but not before Jett gave me a big hug. Hondo never hugs, the sissy.

  I sat there slumped so low in my chair that my head rested on the back. I rubbed my eyes and thought about all that had happened….

  **

  Over the next week, we were hot news. Reporters and news teams called or came by unannounced on a daily basis. On CNN, I watched the director of Homeland Security pointing out the foiled attack as an I-told-you-so, then citing it as the reason Homeland Security was asking Congress for another fifty bazillion gazillion dollars.

  We did sneak away from the press a couple of times. Once was to claim Magilla’s body and have it cremated. The second was when we took his ashes, in three large urns, to Point Dume and scattered them from the cliff. We watched the cloud move on the breeze and settle onto the ocean. At that very moment, two grey whales breached the surface at the same spot and blew spray through their blowholes. Somehow, it seemed fitting.

  After about a week or so, we dropped off the news radar. Within a month, we were back to normal, looking for acting jobs, auditioning and not getting the parts, doing a little work in our Private Investigator business, and when the days were nice-which is a lot in Southern California-skipping out and going to the beach to swim or play volleyball or go fishing.

  The Michael Bay movie we didn’t get was rolling along in production like an express train, ahead of schedule. It was getting lots of press, but few behind the scenes specials, and just occasional photos of locations and sets.

  One evening, Hondo, Jett and I were watching E!, and they interviewed Bob-O and Davester, talking about the movie, but focusing their questions more on what it’s like to make it big in Hollywood.

  I started squirming ten seconds into the interview, and almost corkscrewed through the ceiling when Bob-O said, “It hasn’t gone to our heads. We still like to hang out with the little people, you know, the less-talented actors who are everywhere in LA. And we still all compete for roles, regardless of our talent. Take this movie for instance. There were plenty of actors that auditioned, but our reads were head and shoulders above everyone. So we were picked. Hard work helps, but its talent that makes the difference.”

  After that show I went home and drank eight beers, ate a chili cheeseburger and a whole bag of Julio’s. I was so full and miserable I just lay on the couch and watched the Comedy Channel to get my mind off acting.

  I must have dozed off because the phone rang and woke me. I saw it was Emma calling.

  “Hey Emma,” I said.

  “Oh Ronny, I have some fantastic news!”

/>   Wonderful. “Please tell me, I’m dying to know.”

  “Well, I was hoping you might like to come over and we could talk about it tonight and…over breakfast.”

  “Why Emma Storm, you little vixen. Sure, I’d love to come over.”

  Her voice was soft, “I can’t wait to see you.”

  **

  She met me at the door wearing loose men’s boxer shorts and an oversized t-shirt with Kind of a Big Deal on the front. I said, “Nice casual look, but a bit overdressed compared to last time I was here.”

  She took my hand and led me to the couch with its killer view of the night sea and the moonlit waves breaking like liquid silver on the Malibu sand.

  Emma wiggled around and put her feet under her. She said, “I’ve been offered another directing job.”

  “Hey Emma, that’s great.”

  “It’s another big commercial.”

  “I’m proud of you,” I said.

  “And I want you to be in it.”

  “Thanks. Count me in.”

  Emma grinned and pushed me back on the couch. I said, “So, this is what a couch audition-“

  She kissed me and her mouth tasted of ice, and vodka, and oranges, and she felt firm and warm as our bodies came together…

  Emma played with my hair as we lay on the couch and cooled down. I said, “Tell me about the commercial.”

  “Well,” she said, “It will go international, so lots of exposure for you.”

  “Terrific.”

  “And you will be the co-lead.”

  “Co-lead? Who else is in it?”

  “Your Agent.”

  I sat up, “Archie?”

  Emma sat up and her eyes were bright with excitement. “Yes, he plays the older man who gives you advice for your problem, and tells you about the product. It’s a before-after story and you thank him and tell him how great it works in the after part.”

  She hugged my arm and her trophy boobs cuddling my bicep almost made me lose my train of thought. She continued, “I knew, I just knew that you’d be fantastic in the part, the perfect one!”

  I said, “What’s the product?”

  She hugged my arm again, “Viagra.”