Kiss The Witch - BestLightNovel.com
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"I think someone has bugged our office."
"Really?"
"Think about it. Wherever we go, these suits show up. They seem to know where we are heading at any given time. If we find Howard Snow, I think they will be right there to kill him."
"So, let's flush 'em out."
"Howard?"
"No, whoever bugged our office."
"How do we do that?"
"We plant a decoy. You know that manikin cop they set up in a patrol car sometimes on the side of the road to make drivers think they are in a radar check zone?"
"Sure, Officer Dummy."
"Well, let's dress him up to look like Howard Snow, put him in your Vette and plant him out front of Dwyer's house. Then we'll call Spinelli from your cell and tell him we spotted Howard Snow and that we need back up."
"Oh, I see. And then when the suits arrive, we pop out of hiding and nab them."
"Exactly. If they are not CID or CICU, we can at least hold them until we figure out who they are."
"All right. Let's do it."
After breakfast, Carlos and I requisitioned Officer Dummy from the equipment room at the precinct. We dressed him in civilian clothes and stuck him behind the wheel of Carlos' Corvette outside the Dwyer residence. Then Carlos called Spinelli and told him we had Howard Snow under surveillance outside the house."
"Really?" said Spinelli. We had not clued him in on the plan, as we desired a genuine reaction from him over the phone.
"That's right," Carlos answered. "We're watching him now. Snow is sitting in a red Corvette in front of Dwyer's house. Looks like he's waiting for someone, a contact maybe."
"A red Corvette? But you drive"
"Dominic. Listen. Please. Just make sure no patrol units run through the neighborhood for the next thirty minutes. We don't want to spook him. You understand?"
"Sure, but I think you might"
"No. Nothing. Wait until I call you back for further instructions. Okay?"
Spinelli hesitated, no doubt resisting his police instincts to suggest we set up a perimeter to prevent Snow's escape.
"Dominic? Did you hear me?"
He came back. "All right. I hear you. I'll wait for further instructions."
"Thank you. Good bye."
Carlos hung up the phone and said to me. "I don't like lying to him."
"Ha. Now you know how I feel. Sucks, don't it?"
He acknowledged that with a nod, and then we both sank low in our seats. We were sitting in an unmarked cruiser parked at the end of the street where we could keep an eye on Carlos' car and remain inconspicuous. A light sprinkle moments earlier had chased what few neighbors were out and about back into their homes. That proved to be our only lucky break of the day.
Exactly four minutes after Carlos called Spinelli, a black van sporting tinted windows, chrome wheels and a satellite antenna on the roof, tore around the corner in a blur. The side door slid open as it pa.s.sed our cruiser, and when it stopped in front of Carlos' car, all h.e.l.l broke loose. Two men with automatic a.s.sault rifles opened fire on the Vette, turning it into Swiss cheese.
"My car!" Carlos cried, pointing out the winds.h.i.+eld. "They're shooting my car!"
After what seemed like a hundred rounds fired, the two men jumped out of the van. One of them reached in the broken-out window, grabbed the dummy by its splintered neck and shouted, "It's a set-up!"
Carlos and I sprang from the cruiser, drew our weapons, leveled them at the shooters from a crouch behind the doors and ordered them to stand down. The two looked at us, at each other and at us again. The next thing I knew we were ducking a hail of bullets that were punching holes in our car the size of quarters. Carlos and I dove headfirst back into the cruiser, curling up like worms on the seat and floorboards and making ourselves small as possible.
I heard the winds.h.i.+eld pop first, the bullet pa.s.sing through the car and taking out the back window as well. A quick secession of pings and pangs riddled the fender before the front tires blew. Some of the bullets ricocheted off the street, hitting other cars parked nearby. The radiator went next. The hissing from it sounded like an angry snake, though not as angry as Carlos and me.
When the shooting stopped, the squeal of tires on pavement told us the van was peeling out. Carlos and I unfolded ourselves from the wreckage and returned fire, hitting the van, blowing out the back tinted windows and taking out the satellite antenna on the roof. It rounded the far corner and disappeared into the neighborhood.
"You all right?" I asked.
He slammed his gun down on the roof of the car. "Look what they did, Tony. They shot it all up. Why did they have to go and do that?"
"Don't worry," I said. "The department is covered for it."
"Tony." he pointed at his car with his weapon. "I'm talking about my Corvette. It's shot to s.h.i.+t. I'm not covered for something like this."
"What, you can't say it was vandalism?"
"Vandalism?" He blinked back in dull surprise. "Can I claim that?"
I shook my head. "Call Spinelli. Tell him to put an APB out on that van and to send some units out here. We have a s.h.i.+tload of evidence to collect."
We didn't arrive back at the precinct until after 5:00. Spinelli was still angry with me, but he was all business. He told us he had no luck finding the black van, but the initial a.n.a.lyses on the sh.e.l.l casings from the shootout confirmed my suspicions. The a.s.sault weapons used by the gunmen were likely AK47s, the international weapon of choice for terrorist, hired commandos and mercenaries.
"So it wasn't the U.S. government," said Carlos. "They don't use AK47s."
"No," Spinelli answered, "but a little-known branch of the army's Special Forces employs a similar weapon using the same 7.62 x 39mm ammo. The idea is to leave behind sh.e.l.l casings designed to look like the AK47 was used, insinuating a non-U.S. ent.i.ty fired the shots."
"Do you think that's the case here?" I asked.
Spinelli did not look at me. "I don't believe so. The a.s.sault you witnessed didn't follow the typical Special Forces M.O. If it did. Well...neither of you would be standing here now."
I heard Carlos make an audible gulp. "Wow, hurray for amateurs."
"Oh, these were not amateurs either. They missed you on propose."
"All right," I said. "So who are these guys?"
Spinelli crossed the room, picked a piece of wire up off the desk and held it to the light. On the dangling end, I could see a tiny black spec of plastic the size of a grain of rice.
"Judging from the bug I found on the phone," he said. "I would say we're dealing with a non-governmental ent.i.ty. One with lots of money, resources and inside connections."
"What makes you say that?"
"For one, this bug is high quality, but not overly sophisticated. The government uses bugs much smaller. Whoever planted this likely spent a small fortune buying access into these offices. I found four more just like it on other phones on this floor. We're running sweeps on the rest of the equipment now."
"So we have another player for sure," said Carlos. "Some big international corporation I suppose."
"Yes, but that does not mean these are the guys who shot up your car."
"How do you mean?"
"I mean it is possible the bugs were bugged."
"What?"
He held up the tiny device. "These are wireless. That is, they send out a wireless signal. While player 'A' is busy bugging our calls, player 'B' could be bugging the bugged calls."
"Player 'B', meaning the government?"
Spinelli gestured ambiguously. "Just saying."
"But why?" asked Carlos. "Why would anyone want to shoot up my car?"
"They didn't. They wanted to kill Howard Snow. Remember, they thought he was behind the wheel."
"All right, but why kill Snow? If anyone believed the research doc.u.ments were destroyed in the car bombing in front of Dwyer's house, wouldn't they need Snow to reconst.i.tute the project?"
"Maybe the doc.u.ments weren't destroyed."
"I'm confused."
"I know. Me, too," I said. I checked my watch. "Look guys. I have to go. Ursula is cooking dinner tonight. I told the girls I wouldn't be late."
Spinelli perked up at that. "What is she making?"
"Don't know. It's a surprise. That's why I'm stopping at the McDrive-thu on my way home."
"Oh." He seemed disappointed.
I sidestepped Carlos and put my arm around Spinelli's shoulder. "Dominic, you know Ursula loves you. What happened the other night meant nothing. It is human nature for a body to respond the way mine did in a situation like that."
"I know. I get it."
"The point is, I'm sure if the roles were reversed; say if it were you and Lilith, then you would have experienced a similar reaction."
"Tony, the thing is you saw Ursula naked."
"Yes, but you saw her naked first, that day in the field when Lilith returned her from a pile of bones."
"That's different."
"How so?"
"I didn't get to put my hands on her, to touch her like you did. And she didn't put her hands on me."
"Dominic. Ursula is like a child sometimes, a grown child. I a.s.sure you she saw the events of that night quite differently from the way other women would have seen them. She was not looking at me like that, the way she will look at you on your wedding night. You will still be her first. Nothing will change that." I leaned in closer and whispered so that Carlos would not hear what I said next. "And more importantly, she will be your first."
He looked up at me, a.s.sessing my sincerity. His expression softened, and I found myself trying to decipher the new mood he adopted. I palmed both his shoulders and squared him to me. "What is it?"
His eyes fell away. "What if I dont...you know."
"What?"
"Meet her expectations."
"How do you mean?"
Carlos said, "He's worried his needle d.i.c.k will disappoint her."
"Carlos."
"No, Tony." Spinelli replied. "It's true. You know it. You set her expectations. How can I"
Again, Carlos. "Measure up?"
I shot him a look. He gestured a zip across his lips and turned away.
"Dominic, the only thing that matters when two people love each other is how deep their love is, not how deep it goes in when they make love."
I saw Carlos arch his brow, but he behaved and kept his trap shut.
Dominic returned, "Do you mean that?"
"Of course." I laid an affectionate slap upon his cheek. "So, what do you say? You and Ursula still getting married this weekend or what?"
He gave me some hesitation. I splayed my palms out open. "What?"
He shrugged. "I'm still not sure about this handfasting thing. I mean, it's silly, isn't it?"
"What are you worried about?"
Carlos said, "He's worried about his small p.e.n.i.s."
"Shut up. I don't have a small p.e.n.i.s."
"Yeah, let's see it."
"No."
"Carlos." I pushed him back. "Lay off. Will you?"