Part 3 

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DiSanti and company came into the warehouse, fully served with about a dozen beers. They were talking loudly, making plans, celebrating their big score in advance and being extremely silly. If they hadn’t been the bad guys they would have made an amusing bunch, but they were criminals, killers and thieves with low morals and no conscience. They were not amusing at all.

Joe woke up disoriented and sore but he quickly remembered where he was. It wouldn’t take DiSanti long to remember him too. Joe didn’t have a clue what he was going to do when they came in again, but he knew he would do something.

Anything!

Carlo DiSanti had decided to finish Joey up on his way back to his hideout, and he was feeling very pleased with himself.

First, Carlo had thought of tying Joey up and filling him up with bullets, then send him back to Chicago in a trash bag.

Then he started drinking. He came up with another way: he would cut Joe’s hands, feet and ears and mail them to everyone who knew him in Chicago. Then he would dump what was left at the police station door. If only he could stay and see the Cop in the Hat’s face!

Then he drank some more and got more creative. Maybe he would put Joey’s dead body inside the train he was about to rob. That would be a nice touch! Maybe the drug dealers would blame the La Fiamma family for the robbery. Maybe Carlo could start something interesting here.

It was settled. And it was time.

Tony was sent in to get “The Rat”. He kicked the door and adrenaline filled every inch of Joe’s body, he knew it was time. Tony came inside and “The Rat” was ready. As soon as the door was open, La Fiamma threw himself against the thug and tackled him. Ignoring the piercing pain in his ribs and the rest of his battered body, he ran straight to that little door on the other side of the warehouse. If God wanted him to escape, it would be unlocked. If not, then God wanted to see him upstairs sooner than he thought.

Marco shot a curse to the air and ran after Joe. The two other gangsters followed but they were too far. Joey had definitely caught everyone by surprise.

La Fiamma got to the door. It opened and Joe got inside. He closed it but it had no lock, so he jammed his piece of metal in the keyhole. It worked. The thugs outside began banging on the door furious. Joe didn’t have much time, he looked around and found himself in a small square office that seemed to have been trashed by a tornado. The desk was broken, papers and files all over the place, two chairs, also broken in one corner, and a lot of boxes, a filing cabinet and broken wood. Everything in a room so small, it could have been a bathroom. Perfect!

There was a window, low enough and big enough for him to slip through. Wonderful! He grabbed a chair and broke the glass, but he didn’t go out. Instead, he threw a piece of wood and few other small things as far as he could to the grassy field. Then he went to the corner, behind what was left of the filing cabinet and got under every piece of trash, broken furniture and wood he could find, hiding effectively from view.

As soon as it was done the door came down, destroyed, and Marco and his men got inside. Joe’s idea seemed to work.  What they saw was an obvious route of escape. They cursed, kicked the other chair and the desk, and peeked out the window.

“He jumped out from here!” informed one of the thugs. Marco swore again. Joe smiled, feeling his heart racing.

They went outside. Marco lingered around a bit longer and Joe held his breath. Could he have developed a brain in thirteen years?

He hadn’t. After a few seconds Marco left. Joe let out his breath, silently.

Meanwhile, Carlo had watched the whole escape with unbelieving eyes. How could this be happening? How could “The Rat” even move after last night’s beatings? He should be in a coma with his friend Ricky by now! How in hell could this be?

Cerutti approached fast, motioning him outside. “He won’t get anywhere, boss, I guarantee it!”

DiSanti screamed in frustration. “Damn it!”

They ran outside. Carlo remembered having seen what was left of an old shed outside. His men were already searching it, (good thing Joe didn't go there!). No luck. La Fiamma was nowhere to be found.

DiSanti screamed in frustration again. “Damn you, you little rat! Damn you!”

From under the trash, Joe smiled. Payback time!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

Sergeant Esteban Gutierrez arrived at the train service office to ask for information about the schedules Uncle Mickey had talked about. The trains were due in the afternoon to be partially unloaded and checked. There was a particular one programmed to get there at 4:30. Esteban’s eye caught an interesting bit of information from the files. The name of the sender was Kimura. The cargo: Video Games.

Bingo! Or, like Esteban himself would say, ‘Loteria’!

Esteban asked for all the details and locations, and sent a police car to get some blueprints of the train yards. Unfortunately, Jesse Matthews, one of Carlo's local men, was standing guard on the corner and when he saw de patrol car and suspected immediately.

He followed them into the train station and saw what they were doing. It was done. The pigs had figured it out. The plan was doomed. He cursed. He had to call up his boss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Carlo was furious! He had lost that nice drunken feeling he had acquired with the beers earlier. Now, he had the beginning of an equally nice hangover and that just added up to his aggravation.

DiSanti had spent an hour giving orders to look for La Fiamma. But his men had looked everywhere around the warehouse, and beyond with no luck. It seemed that Joe had vanished into thin air.

How could this happen? How did that stupid weasel manage to get away?

He kept on cursing in Italian, yelling and screaming until the phone rang and he went to answer it.

In his hiding place, Joe was growing very impatient. He needed the place to be clear for just a couple of minutes, so he could steal the car, but there were always one or two of the thugs hanging around inside. Joe winced, his body was screaming for painkillers.

Carlo screamed again, this time for a different reason. He’d just been informed about the police looking around the train station. He went on with insults to all cowboys in Texas and told Marco he should have killed that ‘Pig in the Hat’ when he’d had the chance.

Joe felt proud of his fellow policemen. They had done it! *Way to go, Lundy!* he thought.

But his smile disappeared when DiSanti suddenly changed his plans and ordered Cerutti to get ready to go to the train yards and kill everyone in sight, no matter who they were. If the cops were going to make him lose millions of dollars, he would make them pay in blood.

“Remember Marco, No witnesses, no loose ends! And most important of all, If LaFiamma is there, kill him, if not, everyone must make sure he finds only corpses when he arrives.”

Joe’s heart froze. He had to get out of there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After studying the blueprints and Esteban’s discoveries they decided to stake out the train yards and McCandless, Lundy and Gutierrez put together a strike team to arrest the Italian gang.

Everything was ready, still the atmosphere in the station was gloomy. Many people had kept the bitter aftertaste from the incident with the bloody jacket, and Lundy’s irritated mood hadn’t helped.

Now, even if they had a very solid lead, it still was a long shot and no one could be sure to find Joey alive, no matter how many Italians they arrested that day.

“Y’all take care now!” she instructed her team.

“We sure will, Lieutenant!” Joe Bill replied, adjusting his hat, getting ready for action.

The strike team left. Joanne hung up the phone after clearing the operation with the chief. She sat there in silence and silently said a prayer, she needed everyone back alive and Joe needed to be avenged. Because, no matter what she had said to Lundy, she was sure the young man was dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

Carlo DiSanti got his own team together and left for the train yards...finally!

Joe came out of his hiding place, his whole body stiff, concentrating on finding a way out, he was faced with a new problem: they had taken all the cars!

*Damn!* Joey thought. *This can’t be happening!* He had to escape fast and warn his friends of the Moron-squad gang’s incoming cowardly attack!

Joe looked outside, no car. He kicked the ground and winced, that hurt and, suddenly, Joey found himself swearing in a very strong Texas style, just like Lundy. He swore at that too.

Ignoring the growing pain from his ribs, he got outside and studied the place. It was silent and empty. The highway was only yards away, but no cars were going by. It was an abandoned road that looked about a hundred years old. Joe tried to figure out where he was. The Chicago native looked at the sky, his weary blue eyes desperately looking for answers. He was well rewarded. A 747 cruised through the clouds gracefully and headed southwest. Joey felt instantly enlightened.

He wasn’t that far from home.

He’d memorized the plane routes in and out of Houston and, judging by the road and the open fields, he had a pretty good idea what road the thugs had taken to get him out of the city. It was the old 87 north road, it passed through a lot of farms and houses. It had to be it. God had opened the door for him, hadn’t he?

Fighting desperation and fear for his fellow officers' lives, Joey La Fiamma followed the road. He just couldn’t let Carlo DiSanti get away with it. Not after all he’d been through. Not after the past two days. If someone was going to kill Lundy, it was gonna be him: Joe La Fiamma. He couldn’t let the same thing happen again.

He walked, praying for help. *Please, please, just one more time and I’ll shut up, God, I promise!*

And in that moment, like a real bad joke from the guy upstairs, a horse appeared in front of him.
Joe la Fiamma looked up to the sky, shook his head and spoke up: "You've got to be kidding me!"
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The police strike team got in position, not knowing the size of the enemy's forces or the exact target the bad guys had in mind. They couldn’t possibly imagine that "THEY" were "IT".

Almost forty minutes went by. The police had almost given up when Carlo and his men arrived in a dry cleaning truck.

“That’s odd!” exclaimed Joe Bill.

The bad guys got out of the truck, and the strike team got ready. A big a surprise was coming... They had hostages.

Three workers from the offices who had been cleared away from the building, and on their way home, had been ambushed by Carlo’s men and made prisoners.

So DiSanti wasn’t so stupid after all!

“Damn it to hell and back!” exclaimed Lundy in frustration. “They’re on to us!”

DiSanti’s voice could be heard behind the hostages. “We’re here, pigs!” he said, “But we ain’t here to be arrested! We’re here to collect payback!”

Lundy felt a surge of rage at the sound of that voice. He didn’t know how much it annoyed him, ever since hearing it on the tape. He hated that voice.

“I want the cop in the Hat out here, pronto! Or I’m gonna start poppin’ hostages here. I got plenty!”

Lundy moved and Joe Bill held him back. “Wait!” he said, “Let’s see what else he’s got.”

“He’s gonna kill them!”

“No, he ain’t. Weren’t you the one who said to think Italian?”

Joe Bill called out to DiSanti. “Which one of us do you want, DiSanti? We all got hats!”

“Very smart, pig!” he called back. “But I ain’t your cousin’, farm boy, so don’t treat me like I’m stupid. I want the one from the bank!”

“He ain’t here!” Joe Bill called back.

“Right!” DiSanti pulled a hostage to his knees and put his gun on the man’s temple. Another woman hostage screamed. “I bet he’s not!”

He was going to shoot.

Lundy stood up. “I’m right here!” he said.

“Well, hi!” Carlo laughed cynically. He pointed the gun at him. “My finger’s aching to shoot a pig, today!”

Levon took a deep breath before asking the next question. He was afraid. “Where’s my partner?”

Carlo, realizing Joey never got home started laughing again. This couldn’t be more perfect.

“Well, well, well, cowboy,” he started, “I told you you’d get him back, didn’t you receive my package? Piece by piece!” he was having a wonderful time watching Levon’s face. “You know, he screamed a lot when I cut his hands and feet, all the time he was cursin’ your name. I guess he was mad at you for being such a wimp.”
 
 "The Cop in the hat" was about to lose it when something in the man’s voice stopped him. “Really?” he said, furious, “What name was that, DiSanti? I bet all that I have in life that it wasn’t ‘Cop in the hat’!”

Carlo lost his smile as his bluff was called. He pulled the trigger in a warning shot. Levon didn’t flinch.

Another one and Lundy’s hat flew off.

Meanwhile, Joe Bill and Esteban hadn’t been wasting time, They had crawled behind crates and boxes and were now really close to the thugs holding the hostages.

“You really don’t think I left him alive, do you? After all, we had some unfinished business. I’ll tell you this, he died slowly but when I was trough, I did make sure he wasn’t breathing. I still have a heart, you know? I wouldn’t want him to be alive when I buried him in cement.”

It was a very difficult situation and everyone knew it. How would they get the hostages out of there safely and still capture the Italian gang? They didn’t know. Lundy tried not to think of Joe. He could do that later. Instead, he studied the vehicle behind Carlo, it seemed to be empty so all of the thugs were out. He counted four heads, plus DiSanti and three prisoners. It didn’t look good.

They needed a diversion so Carlo would stop pointing his gun at Levon. They needed to clear the hostages. They needed so many things...

Suddenly, as if on cue, a train came in. The loud whistle startled them all, just a little thing like that was all the cops needed to get the ball on their side of the court. In a second, everyone had an Italian targeted. A shot disarmed one of them. Joe Bill and his partner stepped out of their hiding places and jumped on the startled thugs. Lundy dove behind a crate, he snatched back his hat on the way.

The shooting began. Joe Bill covered the woman hostage, miraculously saving her without being killed himself, and Esteban got the other to crawl behind the van. Marco ran to the rails as Tony was hit by Carol’s rifle and fell to the ground.

Three left but on the run.

Lundy, McCandless and Gutierrez took off after them, leaving the hostages with Carol and the other two officers. Then, deadly silence invaded the place.

Esteban climbed on top of a stopped train and peeked down. No thugs around. He crawled from car to car looking for Italians with guns.

From inside a train car a shot almost got Joe Bill. He ducked and fired back. The bad guy escaped and McCandless ran after him.

Among the trains and boxes, Levon tiptoed between cars, keeping his senses open, hunting for criminals.

Joe Bill shot to the shadows, a dead gangster dropped on the floor. Two more to go.

Marco had been hiding behind a huge wooden crate when, thanks to the afternoon sunlight, he saw Esteban’s shadow on the floor. He turned around, Esteban jumped on him and a single shot was fired. Joe Bill ran to his partner.
 
Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, another shot flew through the air. It was Carlo, and this time he did nick Levon on the shoulder.

The blonde Texan fell hard to the floor, landing on his side. He hissed in pain, his shoulder on fire. He felt sickened at the sight of his own blood and, for a moment, the sight reminded him of Joe’s jacket. He closed his eyes trying to concentrate but he just couldn’t stop thinking about what DiSanti must have done to his partner.

His colt was still in his hand, hidden beneath his leg, Levon felt cold sweat reach his forehead.  Carlo came out of hiding and approached his victim. Lundy prepared his hidden gun and let him get a little closer. *I’m gonna die today, I sure as hell ain’t gonna go alone!* he thought, fighting the dizziness.

DiSanti laughed, yet one more time at the pathetic sight of the man lying on the floor, waiting to die. “Like cattle to the slaughterhouse, pig!” he said, his gun never leaving the human target.

Levon winced at the pain in his shoulder again. *Come closer, bastard! Just a little closer.* he kept repeating to himself.

"No one to cover your back, Cop?" Carlo stopped walking. "Well that's why you people have partners don't you?" he mocked.

Levon stared at the thug with hatred. “You murderer!” he muttered.

DiSanti was enjoying this. “I’m so sorry for you, cowboy, it’s ironic. In the end you’re still gonna die ‘cause of Joseph’s foolishness. And y’know what? Nothing “The Rat” could say or do after this is gonna change it, you’ll still be dead.” He shot and made Levon’s hat fly again.

Lundy shot him another fiery look. “You bastard!”

“And he’s never gonna go visit your grave, Kimosabe, you know why? ‘cause he’ll know it’s his fault. Just like he knows Ricky was his fault, which is why he’s never been to see him either. His guilty conscience won’t let him even see you buried, I guarantee it.

Now Lundy was confused. What was the man saying? What did he mean visit his grave? Wasn’t Joe dead? Hadn’t he killed him?
 
Carlo started playing with his gun, laughing. It seemed that the only thing this guy could do was laugh at everything! It was so annoying!

Levon kept his line of thought. Maybe La Fiamma was alive somewhere, bleeding, trapped, dying! If his partner wasn’t dead, Levon had to go find him, and to do that he had to stay alive. So Levon decided he’d had enough already and even if the Italian wasn’t close enough yet, the cowboy aimed his concealed gun at DiSanti and fired.

Nothing happened. The Colt was jammed. Levon couldn’t believe it, this felt like a bad joke.

Carlo got over the surprise and busted out laughing again. “Well, I guess today ain’t your day, is it Kimosabe? I’ll give your regards to “The Rat” when I find him.”

So Joe WAS alive, and at large! Levon felt strangely relaxed. Joe was free, he was free too.

“Why?” he asked Carlo.

“Excuse me?” DiSanti frowned.

“What do you want from him?”

“What do I want?” DiSanti wasn’t laughing anymore. He was furious. “I want him to fear me, I want him to suffer for the thirteen years I spent in prison because of that rat! I want him to feel bad and agonize over his own guilt... I want him to cry!” He was more than ready to fire at Levon now. “Tears, detective Cowboy; that’s what I want from that miserable squealing pig, I want tears”

With that statement he smiled again and began pulling the trigger. Two shots broke the silence! A dead silent moment went by and Carlo DiSanti fell limp to the ground with two holes on his chest.

“Here are your tears, Carlo. Choke on them!”

Like in the end of a western movie, the afternoon breeze blew as Joe La Fiamma put away two recently borrowed police standard guns and quickly kneeled beside his friend. "Are you alright Lundy?"

Levon stared at his partner like watching a ghost. He still couldn’t speak. The shock of what just had happened was added to his already confused spirit. He blankly stared at Joey.

"Lundy?" Joe asked again, feeling worried. That stare reminded him of Ricky.

Finally Levon's heart and mind came together and he felt the world wake up around him. Joe was right there! He’d arrived just in time! He’d saved his life... again! It was over!

Levon smiled and felt an overwhelming impulse to hug his resurrected friend but, instead, he just said, "Don't tell me that's a real horse behind you, La Fiamma!"

Joe let his breath out and shook his head. It had been too close. He smiled, suddenly feeling really tired of all the tension and abuse. He didn’t even feel the pain anymore. “It’s a rental” he told Levon, as he felt the weight of his relieved soul pinning down his eyelids. “I’ve got to return it in the morning!”

Levon laughed but, in a second, his laugh died out. A menacing shadow came to life and he quickly grabbed and pulled his friend away from Carlo DiSanti's knife, which was going straight for Joe's back.

Joey let out a cry of pain as he hit the floor. Lundy stared at Carlo, he had a horribly deadly look on his bloody face. Levon was frozen, he saw no salvation, but just then Esteban’s voice came out of nowhere and a gunshot from above hit Carlo again.

He dropped. His eyes empty. Carlo DiSanti was finally dead.

After a few seconds of confusion and silence, Joey turned to his partner, the look in his eyes said it all but he felt the need to speak anyway.

"Thank you, partner."

Levon smiled at him. He had his best friend back again. “Thank YOU, Joe! Thank you!”

In that moment, the whole ordeal just fell on Joseph La Fiamma’s battered being and he collapsed, completely exhausted.

Levon lay on the floor, beside Joey, with his eyes closed, patiently waiting for the paramedics. Joe Bill started putting pressure on his wounded shoulder, trying to ease the young sergeant's worries with a sympathetic: "You’re both gonna be fine".

Esteban gave Carlo’s dead body another look full of contempt. His natural avenging nature still wasn’t completely satisfied. He scratched his head and, calling to the uniformed cop next to him, he pointed at the corpse. "Make sure the bastard is really dead this time before you bag him!"

The officer nodded.

The Mexican went beside Levon and Joey and, waiting for help, he stayed there, knowing his presence would reassure his friends.

Half an hour later, Joanne Beaumont hung up the phone in her office again and, momentarily forgetting where she was, openly cried with relief.
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WAIT...THERE'S AN EPILOGUE!
 

Yeah, yeah, yeah!  Times did get better. They always do, don’t they?
 

The next weekend, Levon went to visit Ricky in the Hospital outside Albuquerque, New Mexico. He told everyone he was going to take a couple of days off to go back home and get recovered from it all. The truth was, he wanted to do something for his friend, but La Fiamma never would understand.

They had spoken little about their fight after that day. They both knew it had been stupid. Levon apologized to Joey for forgetting his birthday over and over until Joe finally said enough and told Levon he’d kick his ass if he mentioned it again. Everything was back to normal.

Joe had slept for 24 hours straight. He’d had two broken ribs, bruises, concussions, burns, the works. But he was alive and he knew it could have been worse. He woke up in the hospital the next day to find Uncle Mikey standing at the door. His heart filled with joy.

Meanwhile, the cops at the office organized a small party, and celebrated Joe's birthday, the day he and Levon got out of the hospital. They had prepared a very special gift.

Aided by photos, movies and experienced friends, the guys decorated the Major Crimes office to resemble an old Chicago precinct. They even dressed up in Chicago T-shirts (Yeah, Lundy too). Joe felt honestly happy at work for once. He shook his head smiling. It was the best birthday party he’d ever had.

 On the weekend, Levon arrived at the New Mexico Hospital. It wasn’t a bad place.

After identifying himself, a nurse showed him inside and he finally met Ricky Pirelli. The man was sitting in a wheelchair, staring at nothing, like a vegetable. Light hair, blue eyes, strong features... even in this state he was a very good-looking guy.

Lundy silently cursed Carlo DiSanti one more time. Then he sat down and started telling Ricky everything that had happened, not leaving out a detail. Who he was, where he came from, what had been going on with Joe... everything.  Ricky remained still and silent. Could he understand anything? Who could know?
 
Levon then started talking about how La Fiamma had become a really good man over the years, and a very good cop. How he'd been living with guilt and regret for Ricky's tragedy and how he'd do anything to change the past, but that was impossible. Also, he explained why Joey had never been to see Ricky.

“He's the kind of man who does not go to someone in need if he can't help. Or maybe Joe just can't face you, but he would be here if he could, I know that!”
 
Then, moved by impulse, Levon asked Ricky to forgive his friend Joey.

“He was willing to give his life for me, Ricky. He saved me, and I know he would have saved you too if he could. Carlo DiSanti is dead. Joe killed him. He needs your forgiveness, Ricky. Is that possible?”

There wasn’t a hint of response.

“He’s a real good man. Of course, I can’t stand him most of the time. I live fighting with him, but he’s the closest thing I’ve got to a brother. We disagree a lot and brothers do that, don’t they? Ricky, please forgive him, I know you’re his brother too!”

Ricky still stared at nothing. Levon sighed. He hoped with all his heart that all his words had gotten somewhere. And they did: His friend... and brother, Joe La Fiamma, had heard everything from the door of the hospital room, his blue eyes bright with tears, his heart joyful. He leaned on the outside wall, breathing deeply. God sure knew how to let him see things. He thanked Him for it.

In his heart, he felt the same way, and he was going to let Levon know that one of these days...soon.

Now, that was a really good birthday present, wasn’t it?
 
 

THE END
 

<Typos courtesy of butterfingers p.c. inc.>  Finished- Sunday, August 29, 1999  - 3:15:53 AM
 

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