Chapter 08: Up All Night

Gavin raced down the gravel road, driving furiously until he saw the devastating sight. Alexa’s car set on its side, bright flames and dark smoke drifting from its ruins. Remi, and Gavin jumped out of the car and ran to the disfigured vehicle. Heat still steamed off the metal in shimmery waves.

Gavin ran up as close as he could to get a look inside but saw nothing. He turned around in a circle searching for clues, then looked at the cabin and saw the upstairs windows open. He pulled out his Glock, “The house,” he said. Remi and his men took attack positions around the perimeter of the home. Gavin tried to catch his breath. Remi was already at the front door and gestured for him to take the back. 

Gavin’s heart pounded in desperation as he crept along the back wall of the house. He peeked up into a window and saw nothing unusual, but nightfall was making it difficult. His mind wandered perilously to the fate of the only one he’d ever loved. Alexa needed to be safe. Breathe, he thought.

As he approached the back door, his hand trembled while reaching for the knob. “Are you looking for me?” a female voice asked behind him. He whirled around to see Alexa smiling with leaves clinging to her shirt and dirt covering her face. Gavin grabbed her and squeezed her until she squealed, “I’m okay.”

Relief flooded his system. His vision blurred and he wiped his eyes to clear it. “Hey,” Alexa said, “You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

“What the hell was that? Why didn’t you wait for us?” 

“I did. I was attacked as I waited out on the driveway. When I realized it was a trap, I made a split decision as I rolled out so I wasn’t caught in the crossfire.”

“Rolled out?”

“Well,” she said, “I was on high alert for booby traps. I saw a bump in the road that looked out of place…possibly an IED, so I jammed Willow’s backpack on the accelerator and rolled out and down that incline. Boy will she be pissed.”

“Damn, Alexa. You could have seriously been hurt. Are they gone?” Gavin asked.

Alexa nodded. “I heard car engines take off down the dirt road but didn’t want to risk raising my head to see who it was or what they were driving,” she sighed. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“No, no don’t do that. It’s okay,” he replied, gathering her in his arms again. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

The back door opened and Curt stood silhouetted in the dim light, “You’d better get in here,” he said, jutting a thumb over his shoulder. Before they even reached the kitchen the smell of death was in the air. Garcia sat in a chair, his arms hanging limp, his head slumped down. 

When Curt circled around the man, he could see the long slice mark across his neck. The blood had drained out and left nothing to hope for. Remi leaned over and gently closed Garcia’s eyes, then turned and put his hand over his mouth as he paced a small circle.

On Garcia’s chest was a piece of paper jammed into his torso with a boning knife. The note read, “You’re next.”

“Shit,” Gavin said. Remi’s pace quickened as he simply shook his head and murmured obscenities.

Curt looked at Alexa. “You okay?” She nodded. “You see them leave?”

“No,” she said, with a tinge of shame on her face. “I had to take cover. But there’s no doubt in my mind this was Cruz.”

“Yeah. But how did he find this place?” Curt asked. “And more importantly, how did he know we had Garcia in the first place? We were extra careful when we brought him in. It makes no sense.”

“Sure, it does,” Alexa replied. “Besides the two of us there were two other people who knew we were moving Garcia here. Juan and the Coyote, Miguel. I know Juan, he’d never betray me. Not with all the dirt I have on him. It had to be the coyote. Guys like that sell themselves to the highest bidder.”

“Great. And I can only assume he’s no longer amongst the living.”

“Not with a guy like Cruz,” Alexa agreed.

“Perfect! We lost our only lead and the guy responsible is already in the wind.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Remi said, moving toward the front window as headlights of an approaching vehicle bounced off the back walls. “They’re back. Take cover!”

Just as the warning left his lips, bullets erupted through the front of the house, piercing the splintered wood and shattering the windows. Remi and a few of his guys took position to the right of the kitchen and began returning fire while Curt and Gavin moved in from the living room. Alexa and another of Remi’s men ducked below the porch windows as the gunfire escalated.

“There are too many of them,” Curt shouted as he reloaded his weapon. “We don’t have enough ammo for this.”

“Then perhaps we should think outside the box,” Remi suggested and motioned toward a stack of glass bottles sitting near the refrigerator. “Cover me.”

Retrieving his personal flask, he filled a couple bottles halfway with his favorite whiskey, and ripped some curtains from the window, creating a few improvised Molotov cocktails. “Now to get these out there while avoiding the numerous bullets coming our way,” Remi said with a smirk. “Any volunteers?”

“I’ll do it,” Gavin said.

“Wait!” Alexa protested, placing a hand on his arm.

“Don’t worry, Babe. I got this.” With a quick peck, he grabbed the bottles and moved into the living room.

“We’ll lay down some cover fire, I’ll open the door and you get those things outside,” Remi stated and slid into position. “Alright on my count. 1…2…3.” Swiftly jerking the door open, Alexa, Curt and the rest fired toward the three vehicles.

Gavin stood from his crouched location, took a deep breath, aimed, and threw. One bottle crashed against the windshield of the closest vehicle. The other landed inside the opened window of another. Three men jumped out screaming as red flames engulfed them, incinerating their skin before each tumbled dead to the ground. The remaining truck quickly turned and sped out of the driveway.

“Nice thinking,” Alexa expressed, giving Remi a pat on the back.

“Yeah. Now let’s get out of here before those guys bring their own fire to the party,” Gavin added.

“Sorry, this didn’t pan out, but we’ll find another way to get our answers, Curt. Curt?” When he didn’t respond, Alexa turned toward the last place she’d seen him and found him crumpled on the floor. “CURT!” she shouted and rushed forward. The Detective was lying on his side with an obvious head wound. As she turned him to his back, she noticed the three bullet holes, one in his left thigh, and upper shoulder. The other went through the right side of his chest, just below his pectoral. “Oh my god! NO! Curt!”

“We need to get him to the hospital! Call an ambulance,” Gavin shouted and quickly moved to Alexa’s side.

“Stay with me, Curt, please. Stay with me.” He moaned in pain as he felt Alexa apply pressure to his injuries. His eyes narrowed to slits as he moved in and out of consciousness before finally succumbing to darkness.

Alexa paced the waiting room. Gavin watched her chest rising and falling rapidly as they waited in suffocating silence. A series of doctors, nurses and hospital staff paraded in and out of the emergency double doors but they hadn’t heard a word about Curt in nearly two hours. There had also been a few police sent to question them. Since Curt arrived with bullet wounds, it was standard protocol for the hospital to alert the authorities.

Alexa spun a story about the detective receiving an anonymous phone call regarding the farmhouse and it pertaining to a case he was working. On arrival, they were fired upon and Curt was injured in the process. The locals bought it. It didn’t hurt that Remi and his crew had already cleaned up the other corpses leaving nothing else to be found. Still, they weren’t out of the woods yet. Curt hadn’t come out of surgery yet and the moment he did, the cops would pounce. And when they found their stories didn’t match, it would open up a whole new can of worms.

“Babe?” Gavin said, placing an arm around Alexa’s shoulders as he firmly pulled her into him. “You need to sit. Try and relax. Curt’s going to be fine.”

“You can’t know that. He lost a lot of blood, Gavin. And there’s no telling what damage those rounds did to him; especially the one he took to the chest.”

“He’s going to be fine. He knows he has to. Otherwise, you’d kill him,” he smirked and felt Alexa take a deep breath against his shoulder. “You’re ok too. I’m sorry this happened but there’s no use in stressing yourself like this.”

“What’s taking them so long to update us though?”

“You know what they say: no news is good news. Maybe they are just giving him some time to rest.”

“You sound so sure of yourself.”

“I am. And Curt wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself either. Now please, come and sit with me. They’ll be out to get us before you know it.” Finally conceding, Alexa took a seat beside Gavin in a row of seats between a couple of vending machines.

Just then, the double doors swung open once more and an exhausted surgeon walked toward her. “Ms. Monroe?”

“How is he?” she quickly answered, ignoring the look Gavin gave her.

“Your father suffered a collapsed lung and a few cracked ribs. It appears when he fell, he hit his head causing a subdural hematoma and he has a mild-to-moderate concussion. The bullet in his thigh narrowly missed his femoral artery and we got lucky as it exited just below his gluteus with no real muscle damage.”

“Unfortunately, the shot to his left shoulder nicked his axillary vein and fractured his scapula. We were able to control the bleeding and repair the damage by removing fragments and inserting a plate and screws. Now, it’s going to take some time to mend and he’ll need physical therapy to regain the use of his arm but, all-in-all, he’ll pull through.”

“That’s great news, Doctor, thank you! Can I see him?”

“He is out of surgery and being moved to a room now. A nurse will be with you shortly once he’s settled to get you his room number.”

“Thank you!” The doctor nodded and once again disappeared behind the double doors. A few moments later a nurse appeared to provide them with the detective’s information.

“See? I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Gavin said, giving Alexa a squeeze as he led her through the door. “Come on, let’s see how the old man’s doing.”

Alexa awoke at the sound of the door opening again. It was yet another nurse, coming to check Curt’s vitals before the next shift change. Gavin had gone home to be with Willow while Alexa had insisted on being with Curt until he awakened which still hadn’t happened four hours later. Instead, she had drifted to sleep in that time.

Checking her phone, she frowned seeing four missed calls from Gavin as well as two voicemails. It was a little after 1:30 a.m. Damn, she thought as she stood to stretch. She hadn’t planned on being at the hospital all night. “Finally getting in some sleep huh, Curt?” she said, speaking over him with a smile. “I guess you needed it. I really wanted someone to be here for you when you woke up but you don’t seem to want to do that anytime soon so I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Leaning over, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and started toward the door. “Where is this man?” She heard a gruff male voice ask.

“Room 320,” the nurse replied in a timid voice.

Something was wrong. Only family was admitted into this wing of the hospital. Even Alexa had to lie about her relationship with Curt in order to see him. Peeking through a crack in the door, she saw three men at the nurses’ station. One roughly questioned the night nurse before quietly sequestering him into a back room while the other two strode through the hallway toward her. They didn’t appear to be police or hospital security yet the bulge on their hips was unmistakable.

They glanced around as they moved with purpose. The shorter of the two, who had a bald head and wore his sunglasses inside, unbuttoned his shoulder holster and stopped just at the end of the hall. He was the lookout. The other man, with a scar running down the left side of his face and gun in hand, continued forward.

As Scar Face neared Curt’s room, Alexa spotted a security guard making his rounds. In ten more steps, the unwitting man was going to come face-to-face with danger. Everything happened in a matter of moments. The security guard unbuttoned his coat. Alexa noticed his hand move toward the Glock on his utility belt, caught the guard’s eye and shook her head. But the guard drew his weapon and jumped up. “Security! Drop your weapon.”

Both goons stepped back surprised. Bald Thug whipped his automatic handgun from his holster, and both pointed their weapons at the security guard. Alexa took it all in, measuring, calculating.

“No, you drop your fucking gun!” the scarred man yelled at the security guard.

“The only thing I’ll drop is you, son, if you don’t put that weapon down right now.”

Suddenly, Alexa stepped into the center of the stand-off, hands raised, and speaking in a congenial, easygoing manner. “Gentleman, please. There is no need for this. Look at where you are. There are very sick people just on the other side of those doors. We can settle this without bloodshed.”

The guard appeared about to nod, when he shoved Alexa aside and fired at scar face. The bullet grazed the thug’s shoulder and his gun fell. In the same instant, Baldy shot the guard twice in the chest. The security guard was blown off his feet, landing across the room. As Bald Thug turned to shoot Alexa.

Alexa exploded into action. Grabbing Baldy’s wrist as the gun fired. The shot sailed past her ear, entering the wall beside Curt’s door. Alexa spun and twisted the man’s arm into an Aikido lock, breaking it at the elbow savagely enough that bone burst through skin.

Still holding the guy, Alexa grabbed a letter opener from the desk and stabbed the brute once each in the stomach, heart, and throat, dropping him as blood spurted.

Before she knew it Scar Face was up. He tackled her, pinning her onto a countertop, roped his hands around her throat, and began strangling her. Wheezing, Alexa grabbed a flower vase and slammed it against her assailant’s temple.

The man fell toward her. Alexa jammed a glass drink bottle, skinny-end first, into Scar Face’s mouth and down his throat. The thug stood, choking, eyes bulging.

Alexa hit him in the chest with a flying side kick sending him tumbling back and down. The back of his head hit the metal foot of an IV stand hard enough to pierce his skull and shatter the bottle. Scar Face twitched once and died, with pieces of bottle glass and soda dripping from his mouth.

Alexa walked to the fallen guard’s side, who was still alive; barely. “Shit…” he groaned.

“Don’t talk, I’ll get you some help.” Over her shoulder, she heard the nurses’ office door open. The guard’s eyes grew wide. Instantly, she drew the man’s backup from his ankle holster and fired three quick rounds behind her. The third man fell, the nurse screamed and the elevator door opened with the arrival of two more security guards.

The nurse who had been held captive rushed to Alexa as she called for help. Two other nurses and a doctor aided in getting the guard moved to an operating room.

As she stood to survey the damage, room doors began opening with patients filing out into the hallway to check out the commotion, including Curt who slowly staggered from bed. “Oh, NOW you wake up,” Alexa joked and headed toward him.