Chapter 58.
Firebird to Seawolf
We were
dropping at a more gradual pace than when we started, so to distract myself, I
asked Anna, “Did you have anything to do with the second explosion?”
“You know,
while you were playing swamp creature, I had some extra time between doing my
nails. Can’t this damn thing go faster?”
Her sarcasm wasn’t shared with my need to
know. “So then, maybe it was a back-draft or something that blew.”
It was
pitch black, but I felt her nod in agreement, “It had to come from the first
floor of the tower.” She wondered, “You think Bird Dog made it out?”
I hadn’t
given him much consideration until then. Only half-joking, I said, “Sure, he
had time to light a fuse too.”
Graciously
accepting the return of sarcasm, she said, “Touché!”
I tried
unsuccessfully to shove the thought to the background, but I couldn’t help
thinking, Baker had a better chance of getting out than us. We’d be lucky if
this shaft didn’t buckle before we hit bottom. Fumes were thick enough on the
tower floor to blow at any time. Then suddenly, dropping like something gave
above, I felt a tinge of fear, held Anna tightly and pecked her cheek, “When we
stop, get out any way you can, Hon.”
The
building’s frame was beginning to shift. I’m not a structural engineer but I
figured that the snail-pace of the dolly was likely due to the integrity of the
shaft. We got as far down as we could go, and the door was jammed. It was a
hinged door. Anna pivoted sideways, leaned back, and mule-kicking with both
feet, managed to spring it off its latch, Anna crawled out from off my lap.
As we
unfolded ourselves from our cramped quarters, Horst was holding a pistol but
not pointing it at either of us. He was watching Baker’s helicopter chop its
way up and out through the night air. Gazing skyward, he said wistfully, “He’s
leaving you, your boss.”
I felt
stupid. We had a half dozen guns to choose from on the floor of the tower but
all I had was an empty Glock in my pocket.
Anna simply
shrugged, countering, “Just like how you left your boss to become a crispy
critter. Oh Horst, where’s everybody. You know, the staff? Rats from a sinking
ship, I’d say.”
Horst
likely realized he must do something even though he didn’t seem to be sure what
that might be. Anna’s comment may well have been his first realization that he
was on his own.
Anna said
it better than I could’ve, “Horst. The party’s over. All you’ve inherited are
charred ruins.”
His eyes
were no longer the passionless pits of a Stasi agent. He needed to be
subservient to the Russian and was hardly up-to the task of thinking for himself
in the chaos of the moment. Albeit, he
mustered what he considered to be the voice of command, “Party you say? Time
for me to clean up then. Face down on the ground Mr. Kraszhinski. And Anna,
over here… you come with me.”
Resolving the
polarity between being ready to die and being willing to die was the focus of
my specialized training. Civilians and regular infantry can have moments in the
zone of self-sacrifice to save a stranger or comrade during a natural disaster
or a firefight, but after the adrenaline drains and the accolades die down,
life returns to normal. I grinned wondering why I wasn’t dead already and
wanting to laugh, my only clue was that I wasn’t dead already. That is where I
live because I’m always in that fucking zone.
A shadow
that looked like it could be Ralph was approaching from the side where there
were a few bushes. Perhaps I could stall. I took a breath, and sighed, “You
know, Horst, I’ve always thought that the cruelest part of an execution was the
hood. Don’t you?”
More confused
than before, he ordered, “Face down… come on, down!”
“Horst, I
want my last peek at life to be the sky, or in this case, the flames of the burning
building… anything but facing the dirt.”
“I’m not
saying it again; on the ground! arms out and spread your legs!”
“Horst,
don’t you think it’s ironic?”
“Do it!
Kraszhinski, I’ll shoot!”
His hand
became steady and was sure to his mark. Seeing Ralph approach from the far end
of the ruins, I winked at Anna and to buy time said, “I believe you, Horst, but
the ground is cold and wet.”
Anna’s
continence was droll and of that quizzical look, the raising of an eyebrow, in
which the joke is understood but not to anyone else, “Horst, stop! It’s too
late for this. We can’t do anything with you. We can’t. We’re going to leave
all of this to you. We’ve done our job… what we came to do.”
---- break
----
The lower
floors of the tower were beginning to contort, and the structure was weakening.
Its stanchions had been the first to taste fire but became the last to give way.
Walls of stucco and flaming boards popped off the skeleton of steel beams below
the top floor when in the instant it began to lean away from us an enormous
blast shot the glass from the windows of the floor where Smerdyakov burned and
Spanish roof tiles began falling with plops and clinks a few inches from
Horst’s head, but he remained focused and unphased by the ensuing chaos.
I turned
away to keep Horst’s attention fixed on me but expecting him to put a hole in
my back, saying, “By god, Horst, you’re making a stand!”
I heard a
calm voice from the gloom behind the German command, “Drop it.”
The sound
of a shot-gun blast scattered the dirt behind his feet. Horst spun around.
Tides turned, I drew the empty Glock from my pocket and held it on Horst.
Having already suffered a wound to his torso, he must have decided it wasn’t
worth another, or he shit his Armani pants, so he dropped his piece.
Anna
exclaimed, “Ralphie!”
Ralph held
the shot gun aimed at Horst’s face, “What shall I do with this guy.”
It seemed
we were all indifferent to the building collapsing around us until I suggested,
“let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Sirens and
horns of several firetrucks and police units could be heard from as far away as
Rio Vista and were closing in on the Mansion.
I picked up
Horst’s piece from the ground and tucked it in a pocket. “I think we leave him
with his inheritance and get our asses out of here while we can. I don’t want
to explain this mess to anyone, do you?”
Anna
laughed, “No, but do you want to let ole Horst here give his version?”
“Oh girl,
there’s too many dead already. Looks like a heavy-duty home invasion of some
sort to me, eh Horst? Don’t worry, kids, he’ll think of something.”
I looked
back at Horst as we left him alone like an abandoned child… bloody shirt and
all … back to no longer playing the Stasi agent that he wasn’t very good at.
----break---
Ralph’s
singed Firebird was parked in front of the Compound’s walls. We were able to
get off the property before the first rigs came roaring up Grand Island Road.
“Ralph,
what happened to your baby?”
Ralph said,
damned near boasting, “It’s a real firebird now, Crash. Where to?”
“The Antioch
Bridge and the Sea Wolf.”
“But that’s
goin’ towards trouble.”
“Ralphie.
If you can’t outrun trouble, run towards it.
Chapter
59. Terry and the Pirates
The sun was
rising by the time we cruised past the marina entrance at Loch Lomond. The
Seawolf was in view from the road and tied-up at the dock next to the boat
launch. I had a feeling it was okay, but my instincts were hard-wired to never
trust my feelings.
“Turn it
around, Ralph. There’s a vacant lot back there. See it? A dirt driveway, I need
to check this out.”
A road led
out to the end of a landfill next to the marina where I could get a closer look
at the Seawolf. There were bushes at the end where my view was best. Anna and
Ralph came with me and the three of us squatted on our haunches trying to spot
any activity.
Anna asked,
“Is there a plan ‘B’, Crash?”
“Yeah. Our
best bet was to get our asses here.”
Ralph was getting
cranky from the marathon ordeal, “Oh fuckin’ great. What was plan ‘A’?”
“Plan ‘A’ was we’d all die back there. How
about you, Crash?”
“This is
Plan ‘B’. We’re here, how do y’all like it?”
Ralph
raised his brows, “Die? Did plan ‘A’ include me… I mean the dying part?”
Anna reached
over and squeezed Ralph’s thigh, “No, Ralphie. Somebody had to bury us. Ain’t
that right, Dad?”
“That’s
right, kid. Plan ‘C’ is better. We get to go sailing on a real boat.”
There was a
light from the cabin but after about ten minutes of nothing happening, I began
stripping down to my skivvies.
“What are
you doing, Crash?”
“Ralphie,
you know by now that he likes to swim.”
I
explained, “I need a closer look and I’m not about to walk down that dock in
daylight.”
Teeth
gripping Horst’s pistol, I was in my element once more. I should’ve been as
exhausted as Ralph, but the cold water woke my senses as I frog-kicked a breast
stroke around a jetty to the dock where my boat was tied. I pulled myself up
and slipped over the gunnels into the cockpit.
---- break
----
In the dim
light of the cabin at the galley table I took aim at his form. If I didn’t need
him, I would’ve shot him where he sat instead of greeting him, “Bird Dog. I
kinda expected you to show yourself.”
He was, as
usual, unmoved by my pistol aimed between his eyes and said, “About time you
got here.”
I laid the
pistol on the table and seated myself. Two coffee cups were there and already
filled. We sipped at our cups until Baker finally spoke, “How do you like
Ecuador?”
“Depends.
It’s a shit-hole, how long?”
“You
understand, Crash, I’m in hot water for losing the Russian. I’ve got to call in
all of my chips if Langley’s ever going to let it slide.”
“Hot water!
Is that your best? Time for you to retire, old-timer. You damned near got us
killed, asshole.”
“Maybe. You
know the best operations can always go south on us. Did you leave Horst back
there?”
“Yeah. With
Smerdyakov gone I figured we’d need him someday.”
“I counted
on your good judgment, Kraszhinski. He might help me redeem ourselves with the
Boys. I have his files.”
Good
judgment was a weird way for someone like Baker to put it. I muttered,
“Redeemed? Sounds religious.”
“Crash, you
know all too well, sometimes that’s the best we can do; put the squeeze on the
gods of war and pass the ammunition.”
Over the
years I’ve gotten to know Baker well enough, when he chit-chats, he’s prepping
me to drop a load. “Why do I feel like I’m gonna be shit on? What about Anna?”
Several
minutes went by before he spoke, “Anna is seen as a victim by the law. But, for
you, it’s harder to bury several counts of murder and a jail-break. You’ll need
to duck out until I can fix this.”
“Yeah, I
know, thanks to you and your butt-fuck from Moscow. Give me some travel money.
I know how to disappear in Mexico.”
Harry
unzipped a Nike Gym Bag from the seat next to him, took out a Manilla envelope,
and passed it across the table to me. Inside of it there was a passport and
folder. While I was puzzling over the contents of the folder he said, “I took
the liberty to create a passport for you. It has to be Ecuador, Mr. Lee.”
I opened
its pages to my picture. It was my face but with blonde to red hair and a
beard. The nationality was Canadian and the name on it was Terrance Lee.
He said,
“Guayaquil’s closer to Smerdyakov’s accounts. David Kraszhinski will have to
vanish for good. This folder is all you need to access your share.”
In the dim
light I could see that the bag was half-full of C-note bundles, “It looks like
you’ve got everything I need here but a bottle of Lady Clairol.”
Harry
warned, “The shit-hole where you’re going, the estuary is a bee hive buzzing
with pirates.”
“I’ll be
right at home then… you know, Terry and the Pirates. Maybe I’ll find a nice
Latina Dragon Lady and settle down.”
He didn’t laugh
very often or use words like shit-hole but Harry did smile, “Good luck with
that, Terry.”
“So, that’s
it, Harry? Good luck?”
Chapter 60.
One in the Oven
Poor
Ralph was seasick the whole time while sailing down the coast to Santa Barbara.
Anna and I took turns at the helm, and when the winds came up, worked in
harmony as well as any Trans-Pac crew. Alongside of her, it was a pleasure
cruise for me. The weather was warm for February with enough breeze to fill our
sails if calm, and we easily met the challenge of gale force winds otherwise.
We spoke in one-word grunts of orders to trim a sail, or exclamations pointing
out this or that star or sea bird, etc. She was happy and that was all I cared
about.
Finally,
while anchored at the moorings off Stern’s Wharf, we passed time at the galley
table the last night together.
Anna,
looking pale, asked, “What’s your plan, Crash?”
“My plan?
Are you okay?”
“Yeah,
feeling a little green. I think it might be a harbinger.”
Ralph sat
up and said, “Harbinger, huh? Big word, wazzit mean?”
I didn’t
say anything else until Ralph dashed out the hatch to empty his gut over the
side, “Harbinger, my ass!”
“God damn
it, Crash, you’ve got to start believing in me!”
“Okay, Anna, let’s say I believe you, for now,
but the Santa Barbara area does have some posh rehab joints, you know? We can
afford it.”
“Men are so
fucking dense. Yu think Ralph and I were playing Old Maid while you were at the
helm?”
“You had
plenty of time to fix…”
“You still
don’t get it.”
“Well,
never mind. I’ve got to tell you this much before lover boy comes back. It’s a
good plan. In Ecuador there’s this estuary, Guayaquil. It’s a cluster fuck of
pirates there. You know, outlaw country. These fuckers hit the shipping lanes
every chance they get but it’s an easy place to hide out.”
She leapt
up slamming her fist on the table, “Crash, oh no we’re not! Not after all this.
What kinda bullshit did Bird Dog sell you?”
“Who said,
we?”
She bent
forward and rubbing her tummy retook her seat.
“You and
Ralph are safe here, but if I stay, I end up in San Q on death row. I’m telling
you this much because you might hear that I’m dead and I just might be. Beyond
that, the less you know the better. I promise I’ll contact you when things
settle down.”
Ralph came
back into the cabin, “Wazz-up? You guys makin’ plans without me again?”
Anna
chuckled, stood and put one arm over his shoulder, and kissing his cheek, said,
“Yes Ralph, we’re gonna get you on dry land. To tell the truth, I’m a bit
queasy too.”
The two
locked arms facing me, she patted her stomach. “Someone else will be making
plans for us from here on and I’m looking forward to walking on dirt for about
nine-months.”
He mustered
a smile that lit-up his pale green face, “Oh, really now, you gots one in the
oven?”
Her face
brightened too, “See, Crash, some men understand women.”
I smiled,
“Well, well now. I’ve never been so damned happy to be so fucking wrong about
someone. You done good Ralphie.”
--- break
---
In Guayaquil
Ecuador I got lucky and found a cutter with a Panamanian registration. Hasta La
Vista Baby was the same size as the Sea Wolf and an ex-pat, hard up for cash,
thought I was a sucker and snapped-up the five-grand I offered for it. It
wasn’t hard to find a place in the mangroves to hide out and paint Sea Wolf II
Too on the transom and the US registration number on the bow. I hated putting
that Hasta La Vista Baby fucking name on my dear Sea Wolf, and rigging that
ugly friggin’ canvass adorned with a Campesino under a Sombrero waving, but I
knew I was lucky to get as far as I did without making the change. As a final
touch, I kept Gabe’s sail with the dancing wolf in a sailor’s cap and tutu
tucked away below decks and rigged her with a plain mainsail.
A sliver of
the moon and Venus were the only lights near the shipping lanes off El Limbo on
the Rio Guayas estuary where I opened the bilge plug and stepped over the
gunnels. Having raised her plain canvass main sail enough to catch the light
breeze. I cast her off to see that she sank mid-channel. While watching her go
down I raised a can of Horchata de Morro to the mock Sea Wolf, saluting, “Hasta
la Vista Baby!”
I made sure
she’d be where she would be found, but not too soon.
Anyone
looking would believe David Kraszhinski and his Sea Wolf II Too had fallen victim
to pirates or river crocs. From Ecuador, I could get lost forever at sea. No
one knew where I was going, and no one would know. The absence of Gabe’s logo
was a clue, left for the Bird Dog and Anna to figure out.
--- Break ---
“E – eight
– two– nine - seven– eight.”
“E – eight
– two– nine - seven– eight?”
“Lee? …
Terrence Lee? … Wake up. You have a visitor.”
The tan shirt
and forest-green uniform of a corrections custodian, name-tag Williams, hovered
above me through a pea-soup fog, “No, really? No one knows I’m here.”
“I get a
kick outa you sometimes, Come-on, Crash, you have a half-hour.”
I sat up,
and rubbing my eyes, asked, “Wha… who? Horst?”
“Let’s go!
Visiting hours are half over. Hurry up or they’ll have to come back next week.”
Now from a
mist… “Okay Horst, okay. I’m coming.”
“I don’t
know who Horst is. Come-on, Kraszhinski”
Still
dream-dazed, I stuck my arms through the sleeves. The stenciling above the
pocket of the prison issued denim shirt did say E82978 - Kraszhinski. … fucking
heart stopping tweaking fear! They know who I am. I stepped into my jeans,
apologizing, “Uh, sorry I thought I heard you trying to wake someone else.”
“Ha, Crash,
you crack me up sometimes. There ain’t no one else here.”
Epilogue
The
visiting room for the Vacaville psych wing isn’t anything I would’ve expected.
There’s no separation from visitors … no telephones through bullet-proof glass
partitions… no one’s wrists are cuffed to table tops… nor any mainline prison BS. The guards are
friendly in here with the Dinky Daos and treat people with a modicum of
respect. During visiting hours there are tables for moms and play areas with
plastic toys for the rug-rats.
In the far
corner Anna was waiting with a broad smile and a child on her lap. The kid,
wearing a pink and black Jolly-Roger jumpsuit, wriggled off her lap and toddled
towards me giggling a squeal, “Gampapa! Gampapa!”
I picked
her up and kissed her cheek. “Well, well, Kimmy, how’s my little pirate!”
“Kimmy, did
you thank Grandpa for the Pirate Bear he made for you? She goes nowhere without
it, but we had to leave it in the car, you know, contraband, huh Kimmy?”
“No
pie-lots! Gampapa.”
I pecked
Kimmy’s forehead, “Yeah, all sales are final, sweetie. We can send ‘em out but
there’s no takin’ ‘em back.”
“Happy-happy,
Terry-Terry, you-you!” Kim-Ly sang her version of the Happy Birthday song and
slobbered a kiss on my cheek before she squirmed off my lap and waddled over to
meet the next table of visitors. Looking over her shoulder as if to check on
the guard’s disapproval, Anna gently tugged Kimmy’s arm to return her, “Go play
with the toys, Kimmy.”
“No-o-o-o!”
I snapped
her up and put her giggling on my lap.
“Sorry we
were late, but the traffic was a bitch. You know, with the Oakland Bridge out
and all.”
“O!-Oh!”
Kim-Ly added her two cents, and squirming off my lap to the floor, she ran to
the toy bin.
“Ralph has
a studio session in L.A., or he’d be here. He sends his best.”
“I didn’t
expect you. We were locked-down until today. The boys here had their Thorazine
doses and were getting ready to watch Game Three when all the TVs went off the
air. Al Michaels was blabbering… someone said earthquake… and the TV went
blank. We got a good shake. Felt trapped in here.”
“Yes, Max came
over to watch it. He’s homeless now, you know? City yanked his license too.”
“Yeah, he
wrote. His daughter and ex. Some bad shit. Keep an eye on him for me. Help him
out if he’ll let you.”
“He won’t. Ralph gave him the couch a few
times, but you know how it is. Like you, too much pride.”
“I know you
didn’t drive all this way to talk about Max. Just seeing you and Kimmy made my
day. I was having a dream. It’s hard for me to separate my dreams from reality
in here sometimes.”
She cocked
her head to the side and smiled a nursey smile, “Hold on to your sanity, Dad.”
and added, “I heard about doing the same things over and expecting different
results.”
“That’s
just Dinky Dao insanity. Hey, crazy-shit’s more like being unable to
distinguish your nightmares from reality… a dream that you can’t wake-up from.”
“Yes.
Speaking of reality… You know, Ralph’s learning to sail the Sea Wolf. He’s
getting sea-legs too.”
“Ha, that’s
a good one. I hope he doesn’t run her aground before I get out.”
My words
appeared to have caused her face to drop from hospital visit cheerfulness into
abysmal despair… a sudden awareness of a profound sadness. She was for a moment
a child denied the affection that every child deserves.
I read her
face and assured her, “I know, Anna, I’m never getting out and it’s okay,
really.”
Seeing how
glum I looked, she tried another subject, “Hey, Spiderman told me to be sure to
thank you.”
After
turning myself in, I had her deliver a gift-wrapped package of ten g’s to Lucas
at the Virgin Hotel with a note that said, Enjoy
the Chicken Ranch. Sorry I can’t go with you. Thanks for everything Spiderman.
Maybe you can put this into your retirement.
Thinking of
how I’d never get out, I no longer cared. I was tough enough to accept anything
reality threw at me, but I still balked when it hit home at how much it
affected her. I wanted to have something to say for her sake but my stab at
enthusiasm came out as anger, “Great. I read about Bob’s trial… Copped a plea.”
She didn’t sound
as though she cared either, but added something I didn’t know, “Bob made Jenny
marry him so she couldn’t testify. Ryan was pissed but that’s the only reason
the D.A. cut a deal.”
I let out
an exhausted sigh and then lightened up, “It figures. Justice is sometimes Just
Us. But on a more positive note, I have good news though. They’re transferring
me to Atascadero. You won’t have so far to drive.”
“That’s
great news. When?”
“You never
know with the Department of Corrections. Time’s on their side.”
“It’s worth
it to be able to see you more often,” she looked down and tweaked Kimmy’s
cheek, “David Kraszhinski, it’s so worth it, dad.”
“Damn, you
tell Ryan I know the answer about his package now. Yes, it was worth it. You
tell him, it’s everything to me.”
--- break
---
I disappeared back into my dream. From Koh Kong Cambodia I returned to Saigon… I
made sure that the bones of Kim-Ly, code named Eliane, were disinterred and
given a proper burial slab in the Martyrs of the Revolution section at Ho Chi
Minh City’s Truong Son National Cemetery. I rigged the dancing Sea Wolf back on
her main mast along with the US Registration number proud on the prow. There,
under the watchful eyes of several CGR police on the pier, I raised the Stars
and Stripes ensign. They fell in ranks at attention as the senior officer
snapped-to and saluted as I cast off the stern lines. I returned a proper
salute and dipped the colors to the people of Viet Nam before sailing away from
the pier and down the Sông Sȧi Gốn south beyond the point at Vũng Tὰo. Yes,
Vũng Tὰo, where I’d pounded down Fosters Ale with the Ausies a mere two decades
before. I set course East from the South China Sea all the way across the broad
Pacific for a last cruise through San Francisco Bay. I was coming home out of
hiding to more than a piece of dirt but to freedom from the past. Now all the
ends of a chord unbound were addressed… freed of the tangles and snares, free
just to hear little Kim-Ly call me Gampapa and her mother call me Dad. The
sum-total of Smerdyakov’s accounts were nothing compared to that.
--- The End
---
Cast
of Characters
1. Baker, Harry (Bird Dog) - SIS, SOE, OSS, CIA
controller of Smerdyakov, contractor from the Spanish Civil War until his death
in the 1990’s
2. Bob - Taxi-cab dispatcher & murder suspect
of Douglass Perry
3. Bonnaire, Anadel (Anna) - FMC ex-child
prostitute, assassin, artist, daughter of David Kraszhinski and Kim-Ly
4. Casey - Skipper of the Dinky Dao, ex swift boat
gunner, harbor rat drinking pal of Crash
5. Chernayevsky, Boryslav - Ukrainian Spetsnaz
henchman of Smerdyakov
6. Deitrich, Horst – East German ex-Stasi officer
- Smerdyakov’s Secretary at Alamut
7. Jennifer, Receptionist mis tress of Doc and Bob
8. Kim-Ly, code-named Eliane. NVA Assassin, lover
of David Kraszhinski and mother of Anadel Bonnaire
9. Kim-Ly (Kimmy), granddaughter o David K and
daughter of Rafael Montano and Anna
10.
Kraszhinski,
David (Crash), MC, Vietnam Veteran & contractor/assassin, alcoholic
11.
Max
(Mickey) McGee, MC of A Time Ago & Then, The Book of Job (revisited), SC
Adrienne: The Chaos of Desire.
12.
Montano,
Rafael (Ralph) – husband of Anadel and father of Kim-Ly/ Max’s roommate in The
Book of Job.
13.
Perry,
Douglass – murdered cab driver friend of Max, David, and Anna.
14.
Ryan,
Detective Sean minor character in 2 previous novels; the Book of Job and
Adrienne
15.
Smerdyakov,
Colonel Vladyk – Ex KGB defector BG of Alamut & enemy of the Bird Dog
16.
Spawnn, Lawrence
(Larry-Doc-Professor) – SC and husband of & personnel gr of cab company.
Pawn of Smerdyakov.
17.
Spawnn, Rachelle
Heiman – wife of Lawrence Spawnn cab company owner
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