Fatal Dose (28 page)

“That’s beside the point. I’m a man.” He realized the minute he uttered the words that he had made a huge mistake.

“I beg your pardon. Would you please run that by me again?”

“I’m sorry, that just came out. I didn’t mean to imply that I could do better in this instance. I realize that it’s better for a woman to be dealing with Vennuti. It’s just that I wish it wasn’t you.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but I was the best choice on such short notice. Vennuti knows that I’m on the PDS and that my specialty is distribution and logistics. Over time he would have sought me out and most likely under less desirable circumstances.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, but for god’s sake be careful with that man.”

“Don’t worry, I will be. Actually, I haven’t even had any personal contact with him. Everything’s been by phone. I hope that when I do meet up with him it’ll be to read him his rights and slap a pair of cuffs on him.

Down the hall, a Special Agent made a call to his nameless boss.

“Somebody made an anonymous call to Dennis Petersen’s office telling him about the special shipment this Friday night at ten-thirty. They’re making plans to intercept the shipment.”

“Do they have any idea who made the call?”

“They haven’t a clue, but what’s more important is that Special Agent Wendy Farrell was contacted by Vennuti and he recruited her as a spy to replace Agent Paschal. She’s going to feed him some line about the FBI cancelling their surveillance of Atronen, but I can’t believe that he would fall for that. What are we going to do about this?”

“You are not going to do anything. Let me handle it. I find this very disturbing. The time may have come for our friend Marco Vennuti to be dealt with. You just go back to your work. I don’t want you to be involved in any of this. Thanks for the update. It’s been very helpful, as usual.”

“Glad to be of help, Sir.”

Melbourne smiled and thought to himself,
So, not only did Marco have his own informer in the FBI, but when she got killed he found a replacement right away. He’s a lot more resourceful than I’ve given him credit for. I wonder why he felt he needed to keep all that from me. What’s his agenda, anyway? Well, no matter. It looks like the end is near at hand for him anyway. Just a
few more days to Atronen Armageddon, the demise of Marco Vennuti, the exposure of Special Agent Chuck Wesson and the downfall of John Pierce. What a glorious time that will be.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Mark headed up the street away from 1501 Lakeside Avenue, FBI headquarters in Cleveland, Ohio. His destination, the newsstand next to O’Sheas where he picked up a Cleveland Plain Dealer every morning before work whenever he’s in town.

“Good morning, Mario.”

“Oh, good morning, Agent Matthews. I have that sporting goods catalog you ordered.” He bent down to get it from beneath the counter.

As he did, a man pushed Mark aside, grabbed a paper and tossed three quarters on the counter. Mark moved aside and turned to look at the man, and as he did he heard a pop and the back of the man’s head blew away. Blood and brain matter splattered all over the girlie magazines displayed across the top of the newsstand and onto Mark’s jacket. He heard more pops and thuds as the shooter kept firing.

Instinctively Mark dove for cover and drew his gun. He knew there was nothing he could do for the stranger who just had his head blown away. He saw other people on the street. He motioned to them to take cover behind cars or in doorways. He ducked down behind a car, rose slowly, just enough to scan the buildings across the street. As he did, he spotted the silhouette of the sniper and puffs of smoke as bullets continued to spray the area. Mark stood up and took careful aim. He fired until his gun was empty.

Usually, when a sniper plans his shots he takes into account a multitude of variable conditions. Before his finger squeezes tight on the trigger, he considers wind speed and direction, the mobility of his target, the range, lighting conditions and a myriad of other lesser but oftentimes important conditions. Mel Tarkington was playing assassin from a rooftop that was slippery with pigeon crap that had been moistened by an early morning rain. He arrived early to assure sufficient time to assemble the Panther and lock in his scope. From his vantage point Mel was confident that he would blend into the skyline of chimneys and A/C units that populated the rooftops. He hadn’t counted on the pigeon crap, though. Normally he would kneel and use the roof ledge as an elbow support, but he had no intention of kneeling in the slippery mess. Instead, he opted to stand and lean against a chimney for support. He wrapped his hand around the nylon sling and waited for his prey to appear. He didn’t have to wait long. Mark Matthews was standing in front of the newsstand as he did every morning, presenting a perfect target.

As Mel slowly squeezed the trigger, a stranger pushed his way into the target area and Mel didn’t have time to make a correction. The recoil of the first few shots caused his feet to slip and he found himself firing wildly in the vicinity of his target, on the off chance that maybe a stray bullet would find its mark.

Mel didn’t see Mark rise up from behind a car. He didn’t know that he had been shot in the throat, chest and forehead. He did not feel himself toppling off the roof of the building, still maintaining his grip on the rifle sling and stock. Mel Tarkington was dead before his body made its spectacular splash onto the sidewalk below.

Mark quickly slipped a new cartridge into his gun and ran over to the body. He loosened the Panther from the man’s grip and kicked it aside, holstering his own gun as he did. He felt for a pulse that he really didn’t expect to find. He was not disappointed. He was, however, disappointed when he saw that the shooter was no one he recognized. He was expecting that the man would be Marco Vennuti, although he had no reason to expect that Vennuti even knew who he was. He considered for the first time that maybe the stranger who brushed him aside and was now dead in front of the newsstand, was really the intended target.

The Cleveland Police Department was quickly on the scene and blocked off the street. Mark returned to the newsstand to find a terrified Mario huddled under a shelf of his stand.

“What was that, Agent Matthews? What happened?”

“I’m not really sure, Mario, but it’s over now. Are you all right?”

“I’m okay, but one of those bullets missed me by about an inch. I could hear it as it went past my ear.”

“Well, you’re a lot luckier than the poor guy lying over there.”

“Thanks to you, Agent Matthews. God bless you.”

“I’m just doing my job, Mario. The EMT’s will be here in a few minutes. Make sure that they check you out thoroughly.”

“I will.”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Dennis placed the phone in its cradle and turned to Mark. “You’re never going to believe this.”

“What is it?’

“That was the ME. The sniper you killed was Mel Tarkington. He changed his appearance somewhat from the last picture we had of him. No wonder you didn’t recognized him.”

“Are they certain?”

“The DNA doesn’t lie.”

“How ironic that I should be the one to kill him. I almost had given up any hope that we would ever catch him.”

“Justice takes peculiar turns sometimes.”

“It certainly does. I don’t like to kill another human being, but somehow this feels good, especially after what he did to Susan. It feels exactly as I thought it would. As far as me being the one to kill him, it was his move and it was either him or me.”

“It looks like Marshall Mason was just an innocent bystander after all. He took the bullet Tarkington intended for you. I’m glad he wasn’t a married man with a bunch of kids.”

“I am too, but his death still weighs heavily. I know I couldn’t have done anything, but still…”

Dennis interrupted, “I understand how you feel, Mark. Every time I think about the Bennetts I wish I had been more cognizant of the dangerous position I was putting them in. Well, every case is different. We just have to move on.”

“I know that you’re right. I guess that the best thing we can do right now is to make sure that none of them died in vain. What’s our next move?”

“I reserved the Major Case Room for ten o’clock. It’s time for us to finalize our plan. It’s about five to, so we better get on over there.”

The three ASAC’s, Wendy, Milt and the PDS team were already seated when Dennis and Mark arrived.

“I’ve got some great news. That sniper that Mark shot the other day turned out to be Mel Tarkington. It appears that for some reason he was out to kill Mark. He was using the name Walter Simmons, and had a false passport and driver’s license. That’s what took us so long to determine his real identity. Thanks to Special Agent Matthews’ marksmanship, we finally brought him to justice.”

Chuck and John congratulated Mark, and the rest of the group raised their beverages in a toast.”

Dennis resumed, “Now we have an even greater task before us. We are hours away from what promises to be the greatest operation that the Cleveland office has ever been involved in. If all goes well, the next forty-eight hours will see the demise of the drug cartel in the Midwest, the closure of Atronen and the downfall of Marco Vennuti. This has to go off without a hitch.”

Dennis spent the next two hours going over the schedule they were to follow. He gave out assignments to everyone and cautioned them not to discuss their plans with anyone who was not participating in the operation.

Melbourne’s spy took it all in. He was not concerned about what the FBI was planning to do. He was comfortable that Melbourne was planning a way to circumvent the operation that the FBI was putting in place to thwart the delivery of the drug shipment.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

The operation went off without a hitch. At exactly three o’clock on Saturday morning, twenty-nine agents participated in the interception of four short-haul moving vans that were loaded with the pharmaceutical contraband at a cross-dock warehouse in Ft. Wayne, IN. The vans were stopped four miles from the warehouse with an ICC Shipping Manifest Order. When their cargo areas were searched, what was listed as household goods on the manifests turned out to be a total of over two thousand cartons of counterfeit pharmaceuticals.

Dennis relayed the details of their operation to the Director in Washington and requested that Justice issue the federal warrants to seize and search all Atronen facilities.

CHAPTER FIFTY

Marco arrived at Room sixty-nine at The All Sports Club around eight on Saturday morning. It was the room that BAM used for their meetings. The room was reserved for the day, more than enough time for him to finish what he needed to do.

Marco’s world was slowly crumbling around him. During the last five hours, a major shipment of counterfeit prescription drugs intercepted on its way to a West Coast destination. The use of decoys and diversions that he designed was not enough to evade the web that the FBI and State Police Departments had woven. This was the shipment that Melbourne had warned him not to mess up. He knew what would be in store for him next.

Room sixty-nine was Vennuti’s special place where he came to practice his karate moves. Marco had not attended a dojo since he earned his black belt certification, preferring to tone his body and mind on his own schedule.

Today, Marco planned to take care of loose ends; the loose ends being Wendy Farrell and Marcia Maxon. Following that, he intended to disappear to Isla Fortalenza with Sarah Applebee, that is, if she was willing to join him. If not, she would become a hapless victim along with the other loose ends. He thought about Sarah for a minute.
I sure hope she wants to come with me. I’d hate to lose such a good lay. I can see the two of us on a beach, sipping exotic drinks, without a care in the world.

Marco shed his street clothes and donned his karate gi. It was all white and made of Egyptian cotton. Around his waist he fastened his black belt. He walked over to one of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors and gave a nod of approval at what he saw. He checked the wall clock. It was eight-fifteen. There was plenty of time to go through his moves and be ready for his visitors. After thirty minutes of parries and kicks, he stopped to pick up his nunchakua weapon consisting of two heavy sticks connected at one end with a short chain. Marco had a top-of-the-line Black Dragon nun-chuck and was expert at using it. His workout was intended calm down his mind and body. He spent twenty minutes practicing his moves. He was ready for the first of his visitors to arrive.

Two hours earlier he called Wendy and explained that he needed to see her. He sold her on the story that he had a regularly scheduled workout at The All Sports Club and agreed to meet her there at nine o’clock in Room sixty-nine. A similar call was made to Marcia with the time scheduled for fifteen minutes later.

At nine, Wendy knocked at the door. When she received the early morning call from Marco she thought that the news about the drug shipment intercept wasn’t on the street yet. She decided that it would be best if she knew where Marco was in case Dennis procured the necessary warrants to have him picked up. To her way of thinking, the chase was about to end and she was going to be a major player.

Marco opened the door and waved her in. “I’m glad to see that you are punctual. Please come in. It’s nice to meet such a beautiful lady in person.”

As Wendy passed by him, Vennuti struck her on the back of her neck, sending her to the floor. Her head hit the concrete hard and she was immediately unconscious. He moved her body out of the way and closed the door, picked up her sling-pak and tossed it into the corner of the room. Minutes later, she was chained hand and feet to the wall, with duct tape covering her mouth. He spoke to the motionless body. “I don’t know if you can hear me, Wendy or Deborah, but I’m going to give you a quick summary of what’s going to go down. First, I want you to see what happens to someone who crosses Marco Vennuti. After I’m finished with the other one, I’m going to give you the thrill of your life Marco Vennuti style, before I slit your throat. I guarantee you’ll leave this earth with a broad smile on your face.”