Forged in Honor (1995) (46 page)

Cummings watched the smoke pouring out of the three upper floors and spoke into his tac set. "You're doing just fine.

Uh-oh, I hear sirens. Looks like you're gonna have company real soon."

Alvarez popped another ignitor and tossed it into an open file drawer "Charlie one, let us know as soon as you see them approaching."

All four team members in the van were monitoring the radio messages of team one on their tac sets. Kelly nodded.

"Okay, it's our turn. Stick to the plan." He grabbed Woo's arm and pulled him up as Josh opened the van door.

Kelly walked Woo back to the Jaguar that Josh had driven over. "All right, Mike, so far you've done real good, but here's where you win the Academy Award. Me and Josh will be down in the backseat. When you pull into the gate do it just like we told ya. Do everything I said and you'll be one step closer to seeing your wife again. You got it?"

Woo nodded as if he were in a trance. Kelly lifted the man's chin. "Look at me and tell me you've got it."

"I've got it," Woo whispered weakly.

"Thatta boy, Mikey. You're doin' fine."

The guard in the key house stood as the Jaguar pulled up to the gate. He pressed the gate's electric button, having recognized the vehicle and driver. Putting on his hat, he stepped to the door and waved as Woo pulled in. Then the car suddenly stopped, blocking the gate, as its motor died. The Chinese guard sighed and walked toward the car. "What's the problem, Mr. Woo?" He saw the rear door of the car fly open and reached for his pistol. He felt as if he'd been poked in the side by a burning knife; a millisecond later came a jolt of excruciating pain. He knew he was falling face first toward the gravel but could do nothing but scream in silence.

Josh rolled the shaking man over and cuffed his wrists behind his back with a special plastic tie that could only be cut off. He did the same to the guard's ankles, then ran toward the distant house following the Jaguar, which was already moving. He looked over his shoulder-like clockwork the van was already through the open gate with its headlights off.

As soon as the Jaguar entered the lighted circular drive in front of the mansion, one of Dorba's security men stepped onto the porch to escort the lawyer in. Kelly peeped over the seat, then ducked down but kept his stun pistol pointed toward the open window. "Delay, Mike," he whispered. "Act like you're having trouble with the seat belt."

The guard waited for several moments before deciding to see what was holding up the boss's late-night visitor. He was within three feet of the car when Kelly sat up and fired through the open window. The big guard went down like a bag full of rocks. Kelly opened the car door and got out, then spun and shot Woo in the shoulder with a dart. Turning again, he reached the entrance just as Josh threw himself against the right side of the open front door. Kelly took the left side and nodded. Josh rushed inside with Kelly on his heels. The second bodyguard was standing in the entry when Josh went in. The thick-chested Chinaman's mouth partially opened as he fell backward in a deathlike paralysis. Kelly saw no other targets, so he took the lead and continued down the hall.

Wearing a silk robe, Dorba sat in his dining room drinking tea. He heard footsteps and turned in his chair, expecting Woo. Instead he saw a man dressed from head to foot in black pointing a huge pistol at his forehead. Dorba's face went slack and his bowels turned to water.

Kelly didn't hesitate at all. He used his forward momentum to backhand the old man across the face, knocking him to the floor. Forgetting the pain in his ribs, he bent over and viciously grabbed Dorba's thin shoulders. Kelly picked him up and slammed him back into the chair. He stuffed the belt of the old man's robe into his bleeding mouth, pulled his arms through the rails of the chair, and bound his wrists with a plastic tie.

Josh came into the room with Stephen and Youngblood.

Kelly motioned to the other detective and whispered, "Howie and I will clear the upstairs-you two take the rest of the downstairs."

Five minutes later the team reassembled in the dining room. Kelly and Youngblood had awakened two sleeping bodyguards with twenty-four hundred volts apiece. Josh and Stephen had found and tied up two sleeping servants.

Kelly nodded to Stephen, who left the room. Pulling up a chair, Kelly sat down facing Dorba and pulled the belt out of his mouth. "Look at me, asshole. We're gonna talk."

"Who are you?" Dorba hissed, as blood dribbled from his split lip.

Kelly motioned to himself, then Josh. "I'm John Wayne and this fella is the Lone Ranger. The other guys are Clint Eastwood and the Cisco Kid. We represent the cowboys of America."

"Are you thieves? What do you want?" Dorba asked, knowing that if they were going to kill him they already would have. He wanted to know all he could so his people could find them.

Kelly's eyes narrowed. "We want four hundred lives back, asshole! We're cowboys seeking vengeance for what you did. You fucked up, Dorba. That's right, we know your name.

You fucked up 'cause you pissed us off. Now we're going to teach you a little lesson-Don't ever fuck with us again!

Next time, you will die. Now let's get on with the lesson."

Kelly nodded at Josh, who pulled a fish knife from a scabbard on his belt. He stepped forward and stuck the point of the blade inside Dorba's left nostril. "First lesson, asshole," he said. "We're smarter than you. Your name is not Dorba.

You are Chin Fe Dang. You've been proclaimed San Chu by the Circle. You have a son in Seattle who is moving here to become your San for the city. Chen is your son's real name.

He has a fat wife named Su, who has given you two grandchildren. You recently received seventy tons of white powder that was stored in a warehouse in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Yes, was! It's all gone now. We cowboys told the FBI and DEA about it. We also told them about your other heroin distribution centers-you know, the ones in Sacramento and Kansas?

You run your operation from an office in Chinatown. Your office is gone too-we cowboys burned it tonight. You pay for bringing in the white powder with this."

Josh flicked his wrist and the razor-sharp knife sliced through the skin between the left and right nostrils. Dorba's head snapped back as blood gushed from the wound.

Detective Youngblood stepped forward wearing a black hood like the others. He hissed in the bleeding man's face.

"Lesson two, turtle breath. We know what you are, who you are, and what you've done. You ordered the bombings of the conference and the Metro stations and you ordered hits on the families of police officers. You could never repay us with enough pain for that." He slipped on a pair of brass knuckles.

"But this is a start." He brought his fist back and slugged Dorba in the mouth, shattering his upper teeth.

Youngblood and Josh picked up Dorba with the chair, carried him into the kitchen, and dropped him by the sink. Kelly doused the San Chu's face to keep him conscious and wash away the teeth fragments, blood, and drool. Kelly kept spraying him as he leaned over and raised Dorba's chin. "Look at me! I hope these lessons are getting through to you. We're letting you live so you'll tell your Triad scum they'd best not mess with us again. See, you thought you could come to our country and hide behind our laws. Sorry, asshole, but cowboys don't play by the rules. They see a wolf or a snake and they don't think twice about killing it. We don't care about laws when it comes to people like you. Time for another lesson."

Stephen walked into the kitchen with a large plastic bucket. He turned on the garbage disposal and lifted one of Dorba's prized koi out of the plastic container. He dropped the fish into the drain headfirst. The disposal's whining became a loud, grinding roar. Stephen looked into the swollen eyes of the old man and felt no sympathy. "You have taken those we loved. If you do not cease operations, you will lose much more than your fish." He picked up another flopping fish, deep red in color, and began to lower it into the sink.

Dorba cried out through his broken teeth and tried to get up, but Kelly held him back. Stephen dropped the fish into the grinding hole and picked another red one from the bucket.

"These are your favorites, I see. Good." He set the flopping fish on the old man's lap. "You will watch this one die."

Kelly leaned over again. "The last lesson is coming up. In just a minute you won't feel any more pain-for a while.

Look at me. No matter what you do, we'll find you if you stay in the United States. If you order one more hit, sell one more nickel bag of heroin, or so much as spit on our sidewalks, we cowboys will know it 'cause we'll be watching every fucking move you make. Tell the Triad to get out. If they don't, they're gonna go down, and hard. You live-this time.

We killed none of your people-this time. Next time you die, asshole. This cowboy is gonna personally drill you between the eyes after I shoot your kneecaps, your wrists, and your balls. You don't know who I am and you never will. And you know the funny thing? There are 270 million of us cowboys in the U S of A-remember that."

Youngblood stepped forward and handed Kelly a syringe.

He pushed out the air bubbles in front of Dorba's wide eyes and nodded. "Yep, this is the good stuff. It's going to make you fly just like the junkies do. We're gonna hide a kilo bag in the kitchen and leave a note on the door saying 'Stay out of our territory.' It's for the cops, ya see? We cowboys figured you oughta get a chance to use your big-buck lawyers to try and spring you. See, after we leave we're gonna call the cops and tell 'em we heard there was a territory fight over the heroin action, and you lost. When the cops get here, they'll think you were hit by a rival dealer who was teaching you a lesson. Of course, they're gonna find you high, and your security men high, and the. stuff. You're gonna go to jail, my man. Ain't that some shit?"

Kelly held the needle against Dorba's arm. "Don't forget our lessons. As the cowboys always say, this town ain't big enough for the both of us." He plunged the needle in and nodded. "Shiny dreams, asshole!"

Chapter 23.

"... ashes to ashes and dust to dust, we commend these souls to ..." The pastor's words echoed softly across the gently rolling garden of stones. Josh and Stephen stood hidden within a stand of oaks fifty yards away from the crowded graveside service, watching the family of Detective Chick Cummings being put to rest. The three bronze caskets gleamed in the sun as the MPD honor squad raised their rifles.

"Ready ... aim ... fire!"

The volley's echo was joined by the sorrowful sound of "Taps" as played by a lone bugler on the hill. The city of Washington, D. C., had given full honors to the detective's family. The mayor had proclaimed that all of the families had been on the front line when struck down in the line of duty, supporting. their husbands or fathers. It was a kind gesture, for the entire city was mourning its dead. In every cemetery in every district and every town within twenty miles, thousands gathered in black to pay their respects to those killed in the bombings.

Standing by the grave, Kelly put his arm around Cummings's shoulder as the detective tossed a handful of soil first on his wife's casket, then on his two daughters'.

As the crowd of mourners walked back to their cars, the department captain stepped away from his wife and walked up alongside Kelly. "Where were you last night, Terry? We had a hell of a night. I tried to get you at your wife's mother's to see if you could help us out."

Kelly winced as he took a breath. "Sorry, Cap. I checked myself back into the hospital last night. I think I pushed too hard too early. I heard a big-timer went down. Territory fight?"

"Yeah, a bigwig Chink lost. Is Cummings going to be okay?"

Kelly's eyes misted. "I don't know. I keep asking myself how he can go home after this. I don't have the answer."

The captain nodded. "Once Alvarez's family is buried tomorrow, we'll have to work hard to get past this. It'd help if we could find the bastards that did it." He patted Kelly's back in consolation, seeing he was taking it hard. "Take it easy, Terry. You can't let it get to you. See ya in a couple of days."

Minutes later, when the last of the mourners had left the cemetery, Josh and Stephen walked down the knoll and joined Kelly, Youngblood, Hanson, and Alvarez. Still standing by the grave of his wife, Cummings slowly turned and faced the six men who were waiting for him. His tear-filled eyes settled on Kelly. "I heard Dorba is out on bail. Why do we even try?"

Kelly shook his head. "You heard only half of it. His lawyers and two of his doctors convinced the judge they should release him from County General to go to Mercy Hospital, but he never made it. They took him to the airport instead.

He skipped bail and flew out with eight of his men on a private jet. We won, Chick. He's history."

"And the others?" Cummings asked, looking into Kelly's eyes.

"Woo has given the DEA the names of Dorba's key players here in town and all the leaders in the other East Coast cities. Like I said, we won this one, but you know as well as I do somebody else will come along to take his place. We ain't out of a job." Kelly took the detective's badge from his jacket pocket and tossed it to him. "Here, Chick. You ain't a cowboy anymore-you're a cop."

Cummings caught the badge and ran his trembling fingers over its shiny surface. "I'm not sure I make a difference anymore, Kelly. We win a few battles, but never the war."

Kelly nodded toward the three mounds covered with flowers. "They thought you made a difference. It ain't gonna be easy, but we gotta keep trying. There are a lot more people out there who need us."