Chapter Four
NASH
Back on the street, the LAPD had been brought in to coordinate crowd control setting up barricades to keep gawkers as well as the press who’d arrived, from getting in the way.
The street was filled with civilians who’d not only run from our building, but other neighboring apartments and early opening stores.
Our team had gathered beside the BearCat with the exception of Good and Smith who were no doubt waiting for the DEA to identify Gomez at the back of the building.
Candy was standing with Alain Joy, checking out his shoulder.
There was a hole in his shirt that sure enough, looked like just a bullet had grazed it.
When he nodded and patted my brother on the cheek, I breathed out a sigh of relief.
Mickey and I still had the two young men with us and currently, they were seated in the BearCat where we’d put them, leaning against each other and watching the goings on.
I noticed Rex sauntering up with his rifle case in hand.
He greeted everyone with grunts. I walked over and slapped him on the shoulder, smiling up at the tall Texan.
“It’s okay, buddy. It’s not your fault he slipped out. I know you had eyes into that apartment, but shit happens, right?”
He looked down at me. “There was a coat closet next to the front door. Must’ve slipped out after the DEA team rushed in. Slithered right out behind their backs.”
I realized Rex was right. The only way he could have gotten out was through the front door and down the stairs, which meant Turley’s team hadn’t been covering the stairwell inside the building the way they’d promised.
Somebody should lose their job and the blame for a dead DEA agent fell directly on Turley’s shoulders and his big, fat ego.
Not only had a man on his team lost his life, but the safety of hundreds of civilians had been put at risk.
“Turley jumped the gun, having those guys take the door before warning Nash and I,” Mickey said from beside me.
I glanced at him, noting his red face and the way he was rubbing his sternum.
He was still fuming about it, and I couldn’t blame him.
If it hadn’t been for his body armor and vest, he would have been killed by the bullet which was still lodged right over his chest. Not to mention, that another couple of seconds earlier and we would have been sliced to ribbons by the glass exploding outward.
“You were lucky they weren’t shootin’ armor-piercin’ bullets,” Rex drawled, staring at the projectile.
We all turned when the unmistakable sound of sirens coming up the block alerted us to a couple of ambulances driving our way.
I had to wonder who else had been injured, praying there weren’t civilians.
I glanced at Candy who was waving for all of us to get out of the street and make way. He walked over.
“The DEA found a dying civilian in the stairwell. He’s got three bullets in him and is barely clinging to life,” the captain reported.
“You think he met with Gomez on his way down?”
Candy nodded, looking grim. “It’s a strong possibility.”
We watched the ambulances wait for the LAPD to move sawhorses out of the way, parting the barricade to let it through. As soon as they’d driven up, paramedics hopped out and were promptly escorted into the building.
“What are your names?” Candy leaned down into the BearCat to look at the two young men we’d brought out of the building.
“Joshua Calder and this is Billy Jenkins,” Joshua replied. “When can we get out of here?” He pointed to the small, gray car littered with glass still parked at the curb. “That’s Billy’s car and he has a puppy at home who’s probably leaving puddles all over the floor as we speak.”
“Not yet.” Candy shook his head. “First you’ll answer my questions.” The man sagged. “What were you doing in that apartment?”
Joshua sighed. “Billy needed to…um…score, and he said he’d met some guy at a local bar who told him where he could go. I took his keys away since he threatened to drive himself when I refused.” He looked down. “It’s the only reason we’re here at all.”
“Are you high?” the captain asked.
The guy looked indignant, fire flashing gold in his gray eyes. “I don’t do drugs. I have responsibilities, two good jobs, and people to support.”
“And yet you were with your friend who was looking to score something strong.”
He sighed. “Only because I ran into him on the street and could see he was messed up. I helped him get home and then stayed to make sure he was okay. When he decided to go out again…I couldn’t talk him out of it.
I couldn’t let him go alone. He’s…well, he’s got a one-track mind when he gets like this.
” He glanced at his friend who was sitting there—even now—looking totally out of it.
“You’re not going to do anything like that again, are you, Billy? ”
The kid shook his head quickly, hugging himself. He’d started shaking; either the adrenaline was wearing off or he was coming off something.
“You two okay, other than your friend’s shakes? Withdrawal?” Candy asked, looking them over.
Joshua took a moment to study Billy before turning back. “We’re unharmed but I’m going to see to it that he gets help.”
The captain narrowed his eyes. “Do you know who that apartment belonged to, Mr. Calder?” Before Joshua could answer, the boss went on. “That apartment belonged to a Mr. Pedro Gomez who is now dead in the back alley. It was a hangout for the Los Toros Mexican drug cartel. Did you know that?”
The guy looked like he was about to faint as he shook his head. “No I—”
“So, you’re not going home. You’re going to thank these two FBI agents for saving your stupid lives, and then you’re going to come with us to make a statement at the Los Angeles Federal Building,” the captain said.
My boss was intimidating as hell. If I were this guy, I’d be shitting myself, but to his credit, Calder simply straightened. “That won’t work, Mr.—” He leaned in to read the patch over Candy’s chest then craned his neck to look up at the much taller man. “Sorensen.”
“Captain Sorensen,” Candy corrected.
The guy saluted and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at the insolence in the gesture. “Sorry. That really doesn’t work for me, Captain.”
Candy’s glare faded as he stared down at the man with his hands on his hips. “It doesn’t work for you?”
Joshua glared right back. “Are you arresting us for being in the wrong place at the wrong time because if you’re not, we’re leaving. I have people to check on and he has a puppy, as I already told you, Captain Sorensen.”
The balls on the kid.
“No, I’m…not arresting you…but we need to—”
“Then, like I said, we’re leaving now. If you have to reach us, I’ll give you my number. We can make our statement at a later time.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a phone, staring at Candy. “I need your phone number,” he said, enunciating every word like the boss was slow.
Candy snorted and pulled out his phone, rattling off his cell number as Joshua typed. “Addresses too.” A second later, Candy’s phone beeped with the text.
“This your current address? And his?” He flicked a look at Billy as Joshua nodded.
“Thanks. Someone will be following up with you later today.”
“Nooo problem.” He climbed out of the BearCat, hauling Billy with him. He started to turn but then thought better of it and pivoted back to me, pointing. “And you have something of mine. I want it back before I go.”
Candy looked in my direction and I smirked, pulling out the small pearl-handled pocketknife which was still tucked inside my vest. I closed the distance to them, holding it up so the boss could get a look at it as I pulled out a tiny pair of scissors.
“I think he was planning on trimming some cartel dude’s eyebrows with it. ”
Candy pursed his lips, clearly trying not to smile. “Hand it over, Nash.”
I held it out, catching that now familiar flash of gold fire in Joshua’s eyes. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
He snatched it out of my hand. “Asshole!”
I watched him turn away, sling an arm over his friend’s shoulder, and head for their car. I glanced back at Candy.
“You’re going to follow up with him later today, Hampstead, and I mean today. Are we clear?”
I frowned. “Why me?”
The captain thinned his lips, thinking only a few seconds before answering. “Because the two of you obviously hit it off sooo well.” When I opened my mouth to protest, I got a glare.
I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
At the sound of boots, I spotted Patsy and the much taller Napoleon Smith coming over. There was a dark stain on Patsy’s vest, and it took me a few seconds to realize it had to be blood. The two men shook Candy’s hand when he held it out to them.
“That was good work, Patsy,” the captain said, patting him on the shoulder.
“Sure, it’s no bother. ’Twas all in a day’s work, Captain.”
Napoleon clapped Patsy on the shoulder. “You should have seen Irish, boss. It was pure poetry. You would have been proud. Gomez stepped through the back door holding a TEC-9, dragging the kid along with him and before he even saw us, Patsy had the KA-BAR buried in his throat. He didn’t get a shot off.
Patsy had the kid out of his grip and her eyes covered before Gomez even hit the pavement. ”
Candy nodded. “Like I said, good work, Patsy. And the little girl?”
“Back in her lovin’ mammy’s arms, sir.” A blush stained my friend’s face.
My boss smiled that time. “Well done.”
Alain Joy walked over. He narrowed his eyes the moment he spotted the shiny projectile still in Mickey’s vest. “Take it off,” he said, quietly holding out a large evidence bag so Mickey could drop the bullet, vest and all, inside.
Once he’d done it, Joy patted him on the cheek and smiled at him.
“Come on over to the rig and have a seat. I want to check you over.”