What
if? ... Continued.
A Houston Knights story by Killash
Part Deux
LaFiamma had finished with the mug-shots in less than fifteen minutes. A record time. He’d sneaked out of the office to go get his windshield changed when no one was looking, and that had been pretty quick too, luckily. The matter had him preoccupied. Not only because he had been used for target practice, but because he knew those dead guys were more than just another random killing, and his Lieutenant was never going to let him pursue the issue. Especially if she found out about the long range rifle sharp shooter.
There was little he could do, knowing Beaumont.
Maybe Hanson had found out something. Without thinking twice about it,
Joe decided it was lunch-break time and headed for the Vice squad headquarters,
on the main law office building. He got to the elevator and pressed 5.
Someone else had pressed 4 and LaFiamma, distracted as he was about everything,
got out on the wrong floor. He kept on walking down the hall, trying to
find a solution for the case, the shooter, his lieutenant and Lundy, when
he passed in front of a half open door, as yelling came out of the room.
“Drop the gun, son. This is not gonna
help you!”
LaFiamma stopped dead on his tracks. The hall was empty. He got his guns out and stood behind the door. Someone inside kept talking. “Let it go now son, you’re just gonna get yourself in more trouble than you’re already in!”
“No!. A young scared voice said. “He’s not leaving this room!. Nobody is!” It seemed like a teenager to Joe. “He put away one gun and started thinking of a way to do this without using the other one. He’d had enough bullets for one day.”
“Please!” people said inside. There was more than one hostage. “Let it go. There ain’t nothing you can do about it, now.” Joey felt he had to act fast, or he wouldn’t get a chance.
“Shut up!” the teenager shouted. “Get on your knees, now! Do it!”
LaFiamma didn’t think anymore. He just opened the door and got inside acting crazy, like he’d seen his cousin Paolo many times on Thanksgiving, screaming the first name that came to mind, while cursing in Italian (The bad words were the ones he knew best).
“WHERE IS GIACOMO! THAT’A SON OF A PUTTANA...
WHERE IS HE?” He was waving his arms all the time with the gun in his hand.
“I GONNA KILL THAT’A BASTARDO. THERE’S
NO PERSON GONNA HELP HIM NOW!” The accent was pretty good, he thought.
The people in the room were in shock, which was exactly the intention.
Joe spoke directly to the boy with the pistol. “NOBODY SLEEP WITH HELENA,
CAPICHE? SHE IS MY SISTER!......... MY KID SISTER!... YOU UNDERSTAND IT
MAN?, I SWEAR I GONNA KILL THAT...” Joey didn’t have to say more. He’d
gotten close enough to the confused youth and, with a fast move, took the
38 from his hand, knocked him down and pointed at him with his own gun.
“Don’t move, kid.” Joe said calmly and
his a low, normal voice. He sounded like a whole different person now,
the crazy Italian was gone. “You are under arrest. You have the right to
remain silent...”
The men in the room finally reacted to
what had happened. Now Joey could see them all. They were three men in
suits and a uniformed one. They looked shaken but otherwise unharmed. The
uniform composed himself and handcuffed the boy. It was the least
he could do, Joe thought.
“Who are you?” One of the men asked. “You just saved our lives”. He was very well dressed and apparently was the office’s boss.
“Sgt. Joe LaFiamma, HPD. I overheard the boy’s threats from the hall. Hope I didn’t ruin you party!” The man looked slightly familiar, but Joey just couldn’t place him.
“Well,” The same man continued. “I’m in debt, sergeant. That boy’s brother has been convicted for murder, and he came in here to settle things the way they do in his neighborhood.” He looked angrily at the other three men. “What I don’t understand is how he got all the way in here, and with a firearm!”
LaFiamma had the distinctive feeling he should be somewhere else now. Someone was about to be lectured, (or fired) so he started to head for the door. “Ahhh... it’s been fun, but I’m in a real hurry. See ya!”
“Wait!” The man said again. “Is there something I can do to repay you?” He seemed very serious about it.
“Yeah! You can tell me where the Vice squad office is. I’ve been here a couple of times before and it seems to have vanished!” LaFiamma still couldn’t remember where he had seen this guy’s face, but since the man hadn’t introduced himself, the sergeant dismissed the thought.
One of the other men, finally spoke, obviously trying to get into his boss’ good side again. “The Vice squad rooms are on the fifth floor, Sergeant. This is the fourth floor. You go out of the elevator, third door on your left. Cannot be missed”.
Very courteous, Joey thought. Too stuffy, like a butler. Must be from out of state. “Thanks a lot, dude. Bye.” He left before he was forced to fill the paperwork on the kid’s arrest. More work was what he needed the least right now.
He reached Vice, at last.
“LeRoy!” He called to the detective who was checking some maps on a table. “Any news?” The young man looked up at LaFiamma like he was Elvis’ resurrection.
“Sergeant LaFiamma! Are you alright? We heard the broken glass on your car but you left!”
“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that as well. You haven’t talked to my boss about it yet, have you?”
“No. My captain got the reports five minutes ago. I think he’s the one to do it.”
“Can you do me a real favor, Hanson? It’s very important!”
“Sure Sergeant, anything.”
“Stall him. I don’t need Lieutenant Beaumont on MY case right now if I’m to do something about YOURS.”
“Well... I’ll do my best. You got my word on it.”
“Great. Now, about that shooter...”
“We got a couple of cases, and a stain on the rooftop. It was motor oil. Nothing conclusive, I’m afraid. But there’s somethin’ you should know that I ain’t supposed to tell you.” LeRoy looked serious now. Like he was about to tell Joe the true identity of Batman. “You care to ‘not hear it from me’?” Hey, That one was good!, Joey thought.
“Sure, man” He got closer. “Go ahead.” LaFiamma was actually having fun.
“The cases, man.” he whispered. “They were real fancy stuff. Recognized by ballistics dead on!” LeRoy’s voice got even lower. “ Federal issue.”
“What?” This wasn’t fun anymore. LaFiamma whispered back in disbelief. “Are you sure about this?”
Hanson gave Joe a hard stare. “Would I kid you about somethin’ like this? I tell you. Those were bullets made for the FBI!”
This case just got worse and worse. He was going to have to tell Lundy about it. Joey only hoped the Texan left his personal problems aside and actually got around to helping. “Federal issue!” he thought as he walked out of the building. “I knew they wanted to nail me, but not like that!”
>
>
>
The whole day went by and LaFiamma never got a chance to talk to his partner. Work just wouldn’t let him. When they were about to go home, after two hours of overtime, Joe was called back because a witness would only talk to him. The Italian started to dislike his sudden popularity in this town, it was backfiring on him. By the time Joe got out of work it was too late, even to go to Chicken’s. He decided to wait ‘till the next day, besides, he was exhausted.
He never imagined what the next day was
going to be like. Destiny had plans for the adopted Houston cop.
Bad plans.
******************************
Levon had a hard time going to sleep even
after all that work. When he finally closed his eyes the images started
coming and there was nothing he could do about it.
‘Lundy was walking out of a building to
call for backup. He’d ordered the unit to take care of the exits and told
a uniformed Joe to cover him from the inside. When he got to the car and
grabbed the radio, a flash of light crossed before him, and a dark face
looked at him with evil eyes from a limousine passing by. The man
had a remote trigger in his hand. Levon screamed. And the building behind
him exploded, with Joe still inside.’
Levon woke up and felt like having a heart attack. The nightmares were way too real for him, and they were getting shorter and louder. It was always the same dream, in a manner of speaking. He always was the leader of a police unit, LaFiamma was always in blue uniform, and he always ended up dead.
The handsome features of the blond Texan were starting to resent the lack of peace, of mind and body. He suggested himself to go talk to the precinct shrink, but he ignored his own advice. Levon knew everything had to do with that medal they were giving him, and the way he didn’t want it. He had earned it in a very similar situation to the ones in his dreams. Somehow, the final decisions on a recent gang raid had fallen on him, the operation had been a success thanks to his good ideas and they had apprehended more than fifteen suspects.
He’d been awarded, congratulated and praised
for his good judgement. The problem was, he felt lousy about it. One of
the band members had been too close to killing LaFiamma, but Lundy had
taken him out before he had a chance. Joe had thanked Levon for saving
his life that day with a beer at Chicken’s, and a smile. But the Texan
felt it had been too close. Way too close.
Now, there was gonna be this big ceremony,
with speeches and press conferences and all that nonsense... No one
understood that, if things had been a little different, if he’d called
the timing wrong, if anything had gone any other way, the so celebrated
ceremony might have been a funeral.
This thing was wrong, but Joanne wouldn’t let him decline. She said the chief wanted it that way. That he was the first police officer to be honored in the Major Crimes Unit in years. That the department would look good. Politics! One of the things he admired in his partner was his disregard for them. Diplomacy was not in LaFiamma’s vocabulary, but neither was dishonesty or unwanted acceptance. After more than a year, he still complained on a daily basis about having to live in Houston, with pick-up trucks, and Lundy.
If his friend only knew how really close that thug had got to him. Joe never saw his attacker until he was lying on the floor, dead. He took the matter like any other police business experience. Those came in the package with the badge. But after that time... Lundy couldn’t stop thinking: what if?.
Some time before it happened, LaFiamma had come close to dying on a jewelry robbery. Lundy had taken the bullet for him, it had been instinctive. Joe had been saved, but he had a very hard time coming to terms with it. Joe had lost a partner before, he felt horrendously guilty about it. Even after Levon had a serious talk with his Italian friend about it, convinced him that he was fine, that they were both fine, the feeling of guilt wouldn’t fully leave the young man. It sometimes came out in his actions, his words, his way of doing things. Joey’s healing was slow, and painful. Levon tried to understand his partner, but only now, in the past few nights, had he come to feel the depth of his friend’s fear. How couldn’t he? Damn it! He saw LaFiamma die in terrible ways every night!.
The Texan couldn’t sleep anymore. He needed
to do something about his situation fast or he’d get sick, maybe become
unfit to do the job, and then, who was gonna protect Joe?
But what if Lundy inadvertedly caused
his friend’s death? What if his bad dreams became a reality? What if LaFiamma
decided to break the partnership again? He’d done it once, Hell, they’d
both done it once. He’d called it quits in the Devlin case, when Joe had
taken his money to invest in wall street, based on a lie. That had been
an adventure!
And then, what if after all his efforts, he still did something wrong and people died because of it? What if Joanne or Jamie or ..... What if he wasn’t ready to take more responsibility?
What if..?
Lundy just couldn’t stop thinking “What if...?”
That was a very long night.
**************************************
“LaFiamma, get yourself an ice cream. You need to cool off!” After a frustrated car chase they were both walking down the street looking for a snitch.
“I can’t believe the guy got away! We were this close to nailing him. Man!” Joe was furious, he kicked the floor. His good mood from the day before was long gone.
“His car was fast, let it go. We’ll get him when he tries to cut the deal..... if we ever find Jimmy the Creature,” Levon said, regretfully. The snitch was as elusive as the Scarlett Pimpernel and the Texan was tired. “I’ll help you pay for the scratch on your Batmobile, don’t worry.” He added to keep his partner’s temper from getting worse.
“It’s not the scratch, Lundy. Don’t you get it?” It didn’t work. LaFiamma’s blood was boiling. “The S.O.B. was making fun of us! They all make fun of us!... I can’t stand it!” Joe’s voice was right there, but his eyes were far away, thinking not only about this case, he was referring to his whole life as a cop. “It’s useless”.
“What are you talkin’ about, LaFiamma?” Levon was curious. Something more was going on here. “You lost me. Completely”. He added.
Joe looked at him the way he usually did when he was preparing his partner for bad news. He had to inform Levon about the previous morning shooting, the federal issue bullets and the FBI. He didn’t know how to begin without getting his friend so furious he wouldn’t let him finish. It was even harder, seeing the lines on the cowboy’s face, the way a simple car chase had him exhausted; the stubborn mask he carried. Why wouldn’t Lundy confide in Joe? After all, they were friends.
Levon seemed to understand part of his partner’s stare because he stopped dead on his tracks and grabbed the other man’s arm. “Wait a second, LaFiamma. You know somethin’ you’re not sharing. Is it about Jimmy? Come on, I ain’t in the mood!” His tone was slightly irritated but not quite, yet.
Joe knew something alright, this wasn’t the moment to talk about it either but things promised to get complicated throughout the day. Lines or no lines, he had to warn Levon about the shooter. “Lundy... I gotta tell you, well ... you’re not gonna like it....” How to start? How to say he’d disobeyed orders, he’d been following an extra case even though they were up to their ears in work? That he’d been shot at with a government weapon? That he’d been calling everyone he knew looking for help?... Even in Chicago... How to say all those things to an obviously already troubled man?
He didn’t have to.
Sometimes life speaks for itself.
*******************************
The man got ready to fire. He aimed at the closest of the two men in the park down below. He discharged his weapon. Missed. People started screaming and running in all directions. The two men fled too, looking for cover. Great! Moving targets were his favorite. He fired again nearly knocking the blonde one’s hat off. Aimed again, wouldn’t miss a third time, No way!
He took a deep breath... and fired.
*******************************
“Lundy! Over here!” Joe’s voice called urgently for his partner to take cover behind a mailbox.
Levon followed Joey feeling a bullet fly by his hat. The man’s body pleaded for rest but the adrenaline kept him moving, jumping, running. He had to stay alive. He caught up with his friend. “Any ideas, Chicago?” he said, almost breathless.
LaFiamma noticed the Texan’s efforts to keep up. He cursed himself for taking so much time to tell Lundy the facts. Maybe things would’ve turned out different if they’d been both prepared. A projectile hit the mailbox and came out on the other side. ‘Powerful ammo!’ Joe thought. ‘It has to be the same guy!’ He looked around, they had to find a better shelter.
Levon saw a possibility. An abandoned hot dog stand next to two, very large trash cans would surely be a better trench. “Cover me!” He yelled, and started for the stand.
“Damn it, Lundy! My guns ain’t enough against this weapon!” He followed Levon, shooting up to the place the sniper ‘might’ be. A bullet passed right in front of him, destroying a public phone. ‘This dude is nuts!’ He thought. ‘He’s not going to stop until he kills us!’ They dove to the floor behind the hot dog cart, barely making it unharmed.
“Can you see him up there?” The Texan was scanning the buildings around the park.
LaFiamma breathed hard before saying it. “It’s a high power rifle, man. Look farther... and higher!”
Lundy took another shot to the air and sat back down to reload his Colt. “How do you kno...” another bullet cut him off breaking a glass container on the cart and spilling the contents on the floor. Ketchup, all over LaFiamma’s expensive silk shirt. Joe cursed and shot back. He loved that shirt.
What to do now? Lundy thought. They had to do something fast or ‘corpses they would be’. This guy wouldn’t allow backup to arrive, he was getting closer by the second.
Joey stood up to shoot back but the ketchup on the floor made his foot slide at the same time that another glass container broke. He fell hard on the floor with a thud. “Ouch!” He said out loud.
“LaFiamma?” Levon called.
“I’m fine.” Joe was decided to get this guy, no matter what. He started to get up.
“No! LaFiamma, stay down... Don’t you move one inch!” The hard headed Texas cop had just been blessed with inspiration.
Joey knew he had to help his partner. Bullets were too close now. “I tell you I’m fine, Lundy!”
“No. You’re dead. Play it!” Levon’s plan was getting clearer.
“Right!” Joe stayed down but didn’t let go of his nearly empty guns. If he had one bullet left, it belonged in that treacherous shooting S.O.B.’s head. “But, what about you, smart ass?”
Lundy threw himself down beside his partner shooting his last round. “I’m very dead too.” He was breathing hard, silently hoping the plan would work. A sharp pain on his forearm made him hiss, he felt the blood on the floor but didn’t move. This had to be believable.
The sniper fired again a couple of times, then stopped for good. The two men stayed where they had fallen. They were alone for a couple of minutes, silent and waiting. Joey remembered the way people’s attitude toward strangers in need annoyed him. Like that time when a blind woman had been left unaided to walk home with a bleeding concussion. Joe had been furious that time. Now, he was grateful no one had come closer. It’s amazing how a couple of shots can change your mind.
Sirens interrupted the young man’s line of thought. Help was on the way, though the rifleman was probably miles away by now. “Just in time,” he muttered under his breath. “As usual.” He was lying on the floor, eyes partially closed trying to stay still without missing anything. The stain on his shirt looked very much like blood and that helped a little, yet, he didn’t know how they were going to pull this off when the killer could be anyone.... anywhere.
A tall, blond paramedic reached Levon. He sent another one to check the ketchup covered LaFiamma and one more to help with Lundy’s arm.
“Hey Buddy. Can you hear me?” He was checking Lundy’s vital signs as he spoke. “Can you tell me your name?” The other one was checking the arm. There was a big piece of glass cutting almost to the bone. It hurt like the devil!
Lundy spoke in a painful low voice. “I’m Sgt. Lundy. HPD. That’s Joe LaFiamma over there, and we were just shot and killed a few minutes ago.” The medics looked at him, puzzled.
“This one seems okay,” the medic checking Joe said, not understanding a thing.
“Well, ... He ain’t!” Levon replied with a mix of anger and urgency. “We’re both long gone to hell. Can you take us to the morgue before the shootin’ starts again?” He pointed to the rooftops with his eyes.
The blond paramedic got the full message
and, with a quick glance around, started giving orders. “Okay people, cover
these two up with white sheets and take’em to the ambulance on the double!.
They’re D.O.A., nothin’ we can do for’em now.” He felt like a quarterback
on the last five seconds of the game. His personnel was perplexed though,
but before they could argue he added “Drill time guys, no fallin’ asleep
now!
Move it!”
A patrolman arrived running. “What do we have?” The medic gave the man a meaningful look. “Those two there, HPD. Dead by the time we got here, we’re takin’ them to the safety of Houston’s coroner now. Can you spread the word?” The patrolman looked surprised for a second, the physician looked up to the buildings whispering a very clear “Bang, bang!” then he turned to the ambulance and started walking. Fortunately, the patrolman understood after a second or two. “Clear the area, now!” He started shouting to his companions. “Two policemen were killed, nobody gets near this place... Come on, people, keep walkin’, keep walkin’ ... nothin’ to see here!”
In just a few minutes Lundy and LaFiamma
were arriving at Mercy Hospital, through the emergency room, still covered
by white sheets. Saved... for now. They’d left behind a baffled audience,
a loose killer and a big stain on the floor. Part was Levon’s blood, part
was only ketchup. All in all it was messy, the show was on and the peaceful
park had been turned into the latest ‘scene-of-the-crime’, news at eleven.
**************************************
Sergeant Esteban Gutierrez was sitting
on the edge of his desk holding a yellow folder. He’d just hung up
the phone and was checking the report
in his hand when he spotted a detective walking by on his way out. “Hey,
Williams! If you see LaFiamma tell him I wasn’t born to be a secretary.
I got many messages
for him. A fax too. They said it was urgent.
Everything is urgent around here!” He added to himself.
Williams stopped to look at the Mexican. He obviously didn’t know. “You ain’t heard then?”
“Heard what?” Esteban was still checking his papers. It had been a long day.
“About Lundy and LaFiamma,” the officer continued in a flat tone.
“What about them?”
“Gunned down in the west side park half an hour ago, broad daylight, it was on the scanner.” He paused before going on. “They didn’t make it”.
Esteban looked up slowly, not believing what he was hearing. “Didn’t make it?” It had to be a joke! He felt the impact of the news like a slow motion electric shock.
“They were killed.” Williams repeated in a low voice. He hated breaking bad news.
Sgt. Gutierrez lowered his head, shaking away the sudden image of his two friends dead on the pavement. Since the first time the Matamoros man and the Houston pair had met, they’d clashed and disagreed on every issue. But in the end, they had come through for him. He remembered how Lundy had stayed with him in the hospital when a criminal had stabbed him. How they both had gone out of their way, beyond duty and disobeying orders, to help Esteban Gutierrez bring justice to poor people, a dead girl’s family, a crying mother looking for her baby. They had been good men, and good friends. The Mexican always knew someday one of them would get himself killed. He didn’t expect to lose them both in one day.
Now, the Esteban of old was back, anger fused in his eyes and he had a single thought in his mind. Justice! He looked at Williams dryly. “Who did it?”
The officer was startled by the intensity of the stare. Slowly he stepped back as he answered. “Unknown shooter...ahhhh.... still lookin’.... Well, got to go now.” Before he could be stopped Lt. Beaumont hurried past Gutierrez towards the doors. “Lieutenant!” He grabbed her arm. “Lundy and LaFiamma!”
She looked at him noticing the change in his eyes. “I know all about it, Gutierrez. I’m on my way now!”
“I’m coming with you!” It wasn’t a suggestion, nor a plea. It was Esteban.
Joanne remembered the stubborn attitude the Mexican had shown when they first met. She knew he needed to be kept under control. She loosened her arm and started walking again. “Fine. Follow me, Sergeant!”.
They were already on their way when Joanne finally spoke. She was driving fast. “I don’t think they are dead.” She spoke carefully, measuring her own words. Gutierrez gave her another look. “Come again?” He said.
“The patrolman said they were taking them
to the morgue. The ambulance went to Mercy Hospital and none of the personnel
there seems to know anything. If they were dead, procedure calls for the
bodies to be left at the scene.” She was explaining her own ideas as they
came to her mind. The Texan woman wasn’t completely sure about what she
was saying, but she had this feeling....
Esteban kept silent. Joanne went on. “This
smells like a getaway plan to me...” She paused. “Lundy!” She finally ended.
“Why Lundy, why not LaFiamma?, I mean,
they’re both equally crazy!” Gutierrez was trying to believe his
Lieutenant’s words.
“He used to be my partner, Sergeant. I
know how his mind works. I can feel it”.
“Used to be you partner?” Esteban already
knew that, but he had to do something to ease the stress. “I don’t envy
you!”
Joanne sighed. “Not many people do, Esteban”.