Day at the Beach Ch 17

Chapter 17

For a moment, silence filled the darkness. The SUV sped passed the restaurants and closed boutiques, It's braking lights disappearing into the night, the sound of its engine fading as it turned the distant corner where Main street became a mountain road. The door of the restaurant opened, releasing a group of talking people as the OPEN sign in the window blinked out. The tension of the drama that took place only moments ago dissipated into the sea tainted air as easily as smoke. The group walked towards the beckoning lights of the village just across the street, oblivious of anything other than a beautiful night. As they crossed the street and joined the crowd of strolling people, the mini park side grew even darker as all the front lights of the restaurants went out.

     This stretch of Main street was as quiet and deserted as the Village side of the street was busy, it's bright lights stretching into the distance towards the beach. Beyond the street lamp on the island where the clock rose, there were no other lights on the deserted street that led away from the village into the woods.
     A shadow eased out of the alley way from the dumpster. You would almost have to be looking for it to see it, and even then it was just a darker shade of darkness. The animal trotted out into the street and smelled the road. At first glance, one might think it was a coyote. Coyotes often come out of the woods and test the perimeters of the village for food. But, this animal was too big to be a coyote, too thickly muscles as well. He wasn't looking for food. He walked over to the sidewalk and sniffed where Brad and Susan encountered the mystery man and his thugs. He moved in circles and then criss-crossed the area over to where the SUV pulled up, his nose to the ground the whole time, his total focus on the smells that emanated from the sidewalk. Odors that told him a story only he would understand.
     He had done as he was told and stayed in the alley. He had watched the whole thing and fidgeted when he saw Brad and Susan being taken, but he waited, studying the men and their actions. He was doing what he had been trained to do. But now he was on his own and he knew it. His team had been stolen. He had lost team mates before. He had lost his handler. It's hard to know how he intellectualized that, but there was no doubt how Recon felt about it. He wasn't going to let that happen again.
     He looked down the street in the direction that the SUV had gone, lifted his head and sniffed the air. He trotted briskly down the side of the road in that direction, smelling the ground, then lifting his head high and smelling the air as he disappeared around the bend that led into the black forest.

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     Spike threw the phone on the bed after Alberto De La Cruz hung up on him. He walked over to the small refrigerator that the hotel provided its suites and pulled out a cold beer. He drank half the bottle in gulps, sat the bottle on the dinette and belched loudly.

     He sat down in a chair and wrapped his hand around the bottle absent-mindlessly, as if it was an old habit.
     Spike regretted not leading his crew when they went to grab the Jenkins girl. It seemed like an easy kidnapping. Obviously, it wasn't. He would have given almost anything to know what happened - to be there. Had he been there, things would have gone much differently that they appeared to have gone. The six men just disappeared and the van was found on the side of the road in Watsonville. What the hell was it doing in Watsonville? That was miles from where his men were suppose to be.
     Spike struggled with the questions and loose ends. They tangled in his mind like spaghetti. This was to be a simple job, which is what Spike did best. He was muscle who did dirty work for Alberto. He wasn't used to having problems. It should have been a simple job of get rid of that nuisance of a hippie and grab the bitch. What the hell happened?
     Spike had used Joe as crew boss. He'd known Joe a long time. They had met as youngsters, running protection in their New York barrio. Joe was a little hot headed and too quick to pull a gun on someone he didn't like, but he always got the results bosses wanted. Joe had picked the crew and brought them out from Florida. Spike didn't really know any of them other than Vinnie, Joe's brother-in-law.
     Spiked chugged down the rest of the bottle, then grabbed a fresh one out of the refrigerator. He polished off half the bottle, as he had with the first one, and once again released a large belch.
     The worst thing is that the chick and the hippie disappeared. That was the one thing he failed to mention to Alberto. He didn't have a clue where they were. If Alberto knew that, he would be furious. Spike would lose his cush, high paying job and probably his life.
     He wasn't too worried about finding them, though. Spike had assets – Alberto's assets.
     Where ever these two were, they would eventually come up on a phone, computer, ATM – some kind of electronic device, and when they did, Spike knew who would be in a position to find them.
     He picked the phone up off the bed and tapped in a speed dial number. “They disappeared.” he said without identifying himself. “When they pop up in the system, let me know.” He listened and then spoke again. “I don't know who he is. He was just a guy on the side of the road, and suddenly he's involved, and also a problem. Forget about him for the moment. He probably doesn't have a credit card anyway. Focus on the chick. Put her in the system, she'll make a mistake somewhere along the way.” Without another word he terminated the connection.

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