Authors: George Fong
Fragmented (30 page)
58
Thursday –
The Camry
slowed but didn’t stop. Marquez pulled alongside Colfax, who was running full speed. He turned his head as Jack leaned out the window, screaming at him to jump in. Colfax piled into the back seat and Marquez gunned the engine.
“Turn here.” Colfax pointed left at a long gravel road that paralleled the next major city street. “I think they went this way.”
At this point, it was all a guessing game. Cooper and Youngblood had a head start and whichever direction they took, the two suspects would still be blocks ahead of them.
“I saw him. Youngblood.” Colfax was angry, accusatory. “He wasn’t restrained. He’s working with Cooper.”
Jack shook his head, his jaw tense. Had Youngblood been working with Cooper all along? Had Jack Paris been this badly played? The radio chatter grew heavy. A medic unit, in tow with SWAT, entered the building where Bean lay dead, patrol units cordoning off the area, as K-9s with tactical teams were dispatched. By this time, the media had fully descended on the operation after news of Bean’s death. The PIO—Police Information Officer—took advantage of the coverage by linking a description of Cooper and Youngblood as people of interest.
Jack’s cell phone vibrated. An agent at the command post.
“Just got a report of a guy running with a gun,” the agent said. “Matches the description of one of yours.”
The agent gave Jack the location, an alleyway not more than three blocks away. Jack directed Marquez up a side street, where the Camry coasted to a stop. Colfax reached for car door, ready to bail
.
“Whoa,” Jack said, reaching for Colfax. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I think we should split up.” He punched a finger south. “I’ll take that route. You guys head down the one in front. We’ll cover more ground.”
“You going alone is not a good idea.”
“We don’t have time to argue.” He pushed the door open. “I’ll be careful.” Colfax took off across the street, down the back alleyway. Jack and Marquez didn’t have time to stop him. They had to get moving before Cooper had another chance to escape.
Jack exited the car, Marquez following his lead. He pulled his weapon and pushed the barrel low and forward, quick-stepping ahead, as Marquez peeled off to track the other side of the alley, a few feet back. Jack came to a door on his right. He stopped and listened, before gently pushing the door open a few inches. Jack peered inside. Even with his face pressed close to the doorframe, it was too dark to see much. He spun around and saw Marquez coming his way. Jack nodded toward the entrance.
Marquez drew her pistol. “Let’s go,” she said.
“Why is it so important we kill the girl?” Cooper didn’t seem to care that Youngblood was pointing a gun at his head. He took a couple of steps and tossed the notebooks on an old dining table, then pulled a chair and sat down.
Youngblood remained silent, gun fixed on Cooper.
Cooper’s stare sharpened. “You’re afraid the cops are going to pin it on you, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not worried about that. You stalked her, you grabbed her, you jabbed that needle into her with the ketamine. If someone’s going to jail over it, it’ll be you, Alvie.”
Cooper shook his head, crooked smile forming. “My, my Eric. You’re going to dime me out, aren’t you?”
Youngblood didn’t feel like arguing. He’d spent the past couple of days trying to find answers to this predicament. He wanted to free himself from this mess and from Alvin Franklin Cooper. For good.
“Just tell me where she is, Alvie.”
“Okay. I’ll tell you. I’ll give you Jessica. But even if you kill her, who’s to say the cops are going to believe you over me?” Cooper rocked back in the chair, front legs lifting off the ground. “Or when I tell them you are responsible for the kidnapping and murder of the lovely Grace in
Seattle
?”
Youngblood smiled. “They won’t believe you.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Just tell me where she is?”
Cooper laughed.
Youngblood’s stomach started to twist, head spinning, his blood ready to boil. His hands were shaking and Cooper could see it. “You got two seconds to tell me where that girl is.”
“She’s safe, Eric. And she’ll stay safe.”
Youngblood thumbed the hammer back. “Where?”
Cooper kept on smiling. “Under the cross of God, Eric.”
“You and your fucking games.”
“Do you know what’s in these notebooks?” Cooper gestured toward the stack on the table. “They’re my memories. Yours too. Everything we did.” Cooper let the front legs of the chair fall flat. “Everything
you
did.”
Youngblood glanced down at the notebooks.
“I figured the day might come when you’d betray me. This is my insurance.”
“You mean was your insurance.”
Cooper shook his head. “No, I mean is. There are others. They’re with Jessica Baker.”
Youngblood kept quiet.
“The ones with Jessica talk about Grace Holloway, in detail. Jessica Baker. The others.”
The others. That’s what Youngblood feared the most. The others. It was too much for him. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think logically. All he wanted to do was to end this. To kill Cooper. Killing Cooper was supposed to bury the past, leave no one to speak about those memories. Now, the equation had changed. He trained his sights on Cooper. It was the only option.
“I’ll find her on my own. But I can’t let you live. Goodbye, Alvie.” He’d started to curl his finger around the trigger, when another voice called out.
“Drop the weapon or I’ll shoot!”
Youngblood turned his head and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
Colfax made his way down the alley, twisting every doorknob he saw. He pulled on three before coming to one that didn’t have a knob. It had a latch, which was flipped to one side the door closed. Colfax put his ear to it and listened closely, then gave it a push. It opened.
The hallway was dark but there was a light at the end. Colfax heard some rumbling, then harsh words. An argument. Then came the names he knew. Grace Holloway. Jessica Baker. Cooper and Youngblood arguing over those two girls and other . . . murders. Weapon drawn, he crept forward. “Where is she?” one of them demanded to know. Cooper blamed Youngblood for the kidnappings. Then something about Jessica Baker being protected under the cross of God.
Closer and closer he approached, voices growing louder, bolder, clearer. He heard someone say “goodbye” and knew it had nothing to do with leaving—at least not alive.
Colfax swung around the corner. He saw Youngblood and he was armed. That made him the most dangerous.
“Drop the weapon or I’ll shoot!”
Youngblood and Cooper stared at Colfax, whose eyes bounced between the two but his gun remained trained on Youngblood.
Then Youngblood pointed at Cooper. “Shoot him, Colfax.”
Cooper spoke, his voice calm and controlled. “That’s not a good idea.”
Again Youngblood cried, “Shoot him!”
Colfax looked over at Cooper. He saw Cooper was shaking his head slowly, his eyes shifting down toward his lap.
“He wants you to shoot me so his secret about Grace Holloway dies with me.”
“Don’t listen to him, he’s lying.”
“Really?” Cooper said, voice rising. “I got it all here in my journals. The places we went, the people we met. It’s all here.”
“Shut up!” Youngblood screamed. “Who’s going to believe a guy who killed his own family?”
“I killed them because of the letter.”
Youngblood froze.
Cooper looked at Colfax. “I still have it.”
Colfax didn’t understand what was happening but he needed to get control of the situation. He held his gun on Youngblood with his right hand and directed Cooper with his left. “Put down the gun, Eric. We’re all going in.”
Youngblood lowered the Magnum to his side and walked toward Colfax. Colfax flipped two fingers at Cooper ordering him to stand up. Then, from the corner of his eyes, Colfax saw a glitter. A reflection of light off blue steel. There was a flash and Colfax felt the blow, powerful, crippling, like being struck in the chest with a baseball bat. Instinctively, Colfax’s hand swung toward the light. He squeezed the trigger and the muzzle exploded. The gun dropped from his hand, eyes falling to his chest and the gaping hole where crimson spread fast like brush fire. As he fell back, Colfax was blinded by another flash. People were running but it was too confusing to make anything out. Colfax had taken a bullet and lost control. He had no back up and no one knew where he was. His peripheral vision began to shrink. Even the pain started to fade. The last thing Colfax saw was Cooper leaping over his fallen body. He could not move, couldn’t feel anything. Everything slowed to a crawl. Then Colfax felt the inevitable, his heart stop.
It took Cooper only a second to react when Youngblood shot the cop. Pulling his second gun to kill his friend, Cooper was thinking, “Two for one, just like before.” But when the officer stumbled, his gun went off before Cooper could pull the trigger. The cop’s bullet struck Youngblood, who instinctively returned fire. Cooper felt something strike his side, spinning him around. The gun flew out of his hand, ricocheting off the wall, and landing next to the officer, who now slumped on the floor. Cooper dove for the gun, two more rounds exploding past his ears. Weapon in hand, Cooper aimed in the direction of Youngblood, squeezing twice, one round striking a lamp and causing it to explode, the other finding Youngblood. Not waiting to find out how badly his friend was injured, Cooper leapt to his feet and sprinted out of the room, down the hallway, lowering his shoulder into the back door with the force of his entire body. He wasn’t worried about whether cops waited outside. If they did, he would be dead. And if not? He would be free.
59
Thursday –
Jack heard
gunshots and bolted out of the vacant building. He stood in the still air trying to capture their echoes.
“This way!” Marquez shouted, pointing down the alley, her gun drawn. Jack reacted without thought. He jumped ahead, passing Marquez and running toward the place they last saw Colfax.
Jack hugged the corner and peeked around, Marquez flanking his left side. A door halfway down was wide open. Gun covering, Jack raced toward it. Dusk had settled, rendering the inside of the entryway completely black. With his flashlight guiding him, Jack quickly reached the room to his left, where he discovered Colfax sprawled on his back, eyes wide open, shirt soaked red, lying on a bed of blood. Jack panned his flashlight, the beam falling on Youngblood, who sat against the wall, legs spread wide, hands by his side. His head hung low, chest straining to take in air. Marquez shone her flashlight, filling the room with more light as she knelt beside Colfax and Jack steadied his weapon on Youngblood.
A Smith and Wesson lay next to his hand but Youngblood made no effort to reach for it. Jack kicked it away as he straddled over Youngblood and dropped to a knee to assess the wounds. Youngblood had taken a round to his upper chest, more than likely piercing his right lung, which was why he labored to breathe. Soon the lung would collapse, the plural cavity filling with blood. If it
hadn’t already. There wasn’t much time.
“It doesn’t look good, Eric.”
“Just my luck.”
“Where is she, Eric? Save her.”
Youngblood lifted his head and stared at Jack, his eyes becoming distant under half moons. His mouth fell open but no words came out.
“Come on, Eric. Where?!”
Youngblood rocked his head to the side. “I don’t know . . . I don’t know where she is. He . . . wouldn’t tell me.”
Jack turned to Marquez, who had been listening to their conversation. She got on her phone and notified the surveillance crews.
“Does he have a car?” Jack asked.
Youngblood’s head continued to swivel. He was fading.
Youngblood coughed up blood. A minute later, FBI SWAT medics arrived with the back-up team. They wouldn’t be able to save him. He had lost too much blood. Jack put Youngblood’s chin in his hand and forced his head up. “Tell me, Eric. Where can she be?”
Youngblood closed his eyes, his breathing shallow. He caught Jack’s eye one last time.
“Cross of God,” he said. “Under the cross of God.”
