Authors: Derek Blass
He raced down the beat-up street, running red lights where he could and blowing through stop signs. Two enormous headlights continued to track his moves. He could see the glimmer of the railroad crossing sign coming up fast in front of him. He cut back on his speed, and after he crossed the second track he yanked the bike to the left. Now his fate was ninety percent luck. If he could catch up to a train in the next five minutes, he may have a chance. If not, the advantage of Shaver's SUV would surely overwhelm him.
* * * *
Diego pushed play in the media player and a black screen popped up. The length of the video showed eight minutes and forty seconds. After a few seconds of nothing, the screen lit up with a shot of Shaver's squad leaving the back of their transport. The camera bumped along as Max scampered to keep up with three of the cops as they maneuvered to the back of the home.
“
The Latino must be Martinez,” Cruz said.
“
How many cops were there?” Diego asked.
Cruz turned to Sandra, not remembering exactly how many cops there were. “Uhm, I think there were five total. Martinez was the only Latino. Then there was a black cop named Williams...”
“
Oh, the one who was just killed in his own home?” Diego interrupted.
“
Yeah. Then Shaver, Tomko and another one.” All of their attention reverted to the computer screen which showed Martinez breaching the back door and stepping aside as the other two cops entered the home.
The camera was partially obstructed by Martinez's shoulder. As the other cops pushed in, Martinez stood still with his gun drawn. When Martinez moved in, Max followed closely behind him. The camera picked up glimpses of the home between shifts in Martinez's body. The group traveled down a long hall with doors off to each side. Suddenly the whole train stopped and Max stuck the camera around Martinez's right shoulder.
Martinez seemed to relax a bit and lowered his gun while still holding it with two hands. He motioned Max to move forward, and when he did, the room came into plain view. Max pushed back into a corner to capture the whole scene.
“
Pause it there. That's obviously Williams,” Cruz said, pointing to a figure on the right side of the room. “On the left you can see Lindsey and Tomko. I recognize Lindsey from the photos in the news after he died at Williams' house.”
“
So, that leaves Shaver then,” Sandra said as she pointed to the figure looming in the center of the screen. His gun was drawn and pointed directly at Livan Rodriguez. Shaver seemed huge. Shaved blond hair gleamed from the overhead light. His pit bull neck bulged out of his Kevlar vest. She knew that profile all too well.
“
Start it again,” Cruz said. Diego restarted the video and they all watched, simultaneously entranced and braced for what was coming. The young woman at Shaver's left leg clawed at his ankle. Her face was awash with anguish and glistening from tears. Shaver pulled his leg back from her grip and pushed her away by placing his foot on her shoulder.
Max panned in on the young woman. Without turning around, Shaver gave a sign which seemed to be directed at Max. Max put the camera on the ground but still managed to catch a good portion of the scene.
“
Wow,” Cruz started, “I wonder if there was something under the camera to prop it up.”
But Sandra noticed that the camera was still moving and it dawned on her what Max had done. “It's on his foot,” she said.
Diego paused the video and turned around, “What is?”
“
The camera. Look at how it keeps jostling around.”
Diego restarted the video and almost as soon as he did, the computer player went black and displayed an error message.
“
What the hell!” he swore. Diego clicked on various things to try to fix the problem. He pulled another disc out and inserted it into the computer. It played fine. “I have no idea what just happened.”
“
It's almost like the file is corrupted,” Alfonso said.
“
That's what I was thinking too,” Diego responded. “Who got this drive?” Diego asked.
“
I did,” Sandra answered.
“
From who?”
“
From the cameraman himself.”
“
Well, let's go talk to him.”
Sandra looked at Cruz. “We can't...he's dead.”
“
How do you know that? I haven't seen anything about it on the news.”
“
I was at the cameraman's apartment when it happened.”
“
My God, did you see it happen?” Diego asked.
“
No, I was hiding in the closet when it happened. The cameraman, Max, contacted me to give me the drive. He wanted to make sure someone else had the drive in case something happened to him. When I was over there, Shaver came to his apartment and...well, he shot him in the head.”
“
How did you know it was Shaver if you were hiding?”
Sandra was starting to get exasperated with all of the questions. The trauma of the murder still tormented her. “Because Max said his name, all right?” Cruz noticed Sandra's distress and put his arm around her.
“
Let's just move on.”
“
Well, we can't because we have no video,” Diego said. “Without that, what's next?”
“
I think we need to talk to Martinez. I have a feeling there may be more than just this copy,” Cruz said.
“
What makes you think this was a copy?” Alfonso asked.
“
For starters, I don't think any cameraman would simply give up a video of this magnitude. I think Max made a copy and that when he did something became corrupted. And what if Max didn't have the original? If I was Shaver, I sure wouldn't let that drive get way from me—we may need to get the original from him.”
Diego rolled his eyes and laughed, “Get the drive from the police officer and murderer? Good luck with that!”
“
Fucking listen here!” Cruz bristled. “You said you were going to help. A negative attitude is about the last thing we need. You're either in or not!”
Diego's face turned red and Alfonso squared his shoulders to Cruz. “You need to watch how you talk to me,
hijo
. I understand your frustration and fear. But, you're in my house and you need my help. That's the last time you disrespect me in my fucking house in front of my fucking son! Got it?”
Cruz felt his pride well up in his throat. He took a deep breath and told himself to swallow it. Diego was right. They needed his help. Any more fighting and Diego wouldn't help them at all. He backed down and both Diego and Alfonso pulled back a bit.
“
I still think we need to find Martinez and see what he knows,” Cruz said.
“
Okay, I agree. I've got some friends who are investigators. They can tell me where Martinez lives. You and Sandra will start there once I get the info,” Diego said.
* * * *
Martinez squinted his eyes as dirt and dust kicked up around the motorcycle. He didn't look down at the speedometer—it probably would have scared the hell out of him. Objects were flying by so fast that any change in focus could certainly spell death. As he struggled to see ahead he caught the vague outline of a train about a mile in the distance.
He lowered his body to become more aerodynamic. Shaver was still somewhere behind him, and Martinez knew that jumping on a train was an imperfect plan. But, he needed a chance to rest, even for the slightest time. His leg throbbed with every strained heartbeat. If he didn't stop the blood flow soon it would mean big trouble.
As Martinez closed in on the lumbering train, specks of debris flew back at him and pelted his face. He clenched his teeth and pulled up alongside the last car of the train. The roar of the wind almost completely drowned out the sharp, metallic sound of the train churning along its tracks. The first car Martinez came alongside didn't have its doors open but the next one did. He pulled forward and steeled himself for the jump. One slip, the slightest hesitation, and he would die.
Martinez drew the bike as close to the swaying car as he could, planted his left leg on the motorcycle's peg and pushed off. To Martinez it seemed like he floated slowly in the air. His hand reached out for the handle on the car's door. His left foot caught the step going up to the car. Just as it did he grabbed onto the handle. Martinez's body swung open from the force of the wind and slammed against the car. Nearly every ounce of his energy had been drained in the pursuit. As he mustered what was left, he saw a plume of dirt shoot up behind the train. The headlights of Shaver's SUV first spun horizontally and then they started to tumble end over end. It was a spectacle. Light shown through shattered glass. Martinez's motorcycle was spit out to the right of Shaver's SUV. He swung himself into the train's car and collapsed onto his stomach.
The taste of dirt caked onto his teeth and permeated his mouth. His eyes were blurry and stinging from the debris swimming in them. Martinez rolled over and put the safe on the floor. He took off his hoodie and shirt, tore the shirt and tied it tightly on the upper part of his calf. Searing pain shot down his foot and made his toes curl. He screamed out, “Goddammit!!” Martinez threw himself back and tried to focus on the ceiling of the train car.
The car steadily swayed from side to side, like a giant metal crib. He turned his head and looked at the passing landscape. The sun had almost set, leaving only the faintest glow to illuminate passing buildings. Streetlights shed a faint yellow on industrial structures and lit up vehicles as the train plodded eastward. The swaying of the car and double thud every ten seconds gently led Martinez to sleep.
The car's floor was uneven and a raised beam in the floor pressed into the middle of his back. That discomfort, even with the cold graininess of the dirty car floor, was not enough to keep him awake.
S E V E N T E E N
__________________________________________________
S
haver gasped for air and cracked his eyes open. Light flooded his right eye, which immediately closed. His left eye felt dead. A voice came from somewhere far away.
“
Sergeant? Sergeant Shaver, can you hear me?” Shaver groaned and turned his head from side to side. Then, as if a light was switched on, the pain kicked in. It ripped up and through Shaver's chest. He opened his right eye again and realized that he was actually upside down. The passenger seat was empty.
“
Wha…where's Tomko? What the fuck what happened...” Shaver asked in a strained voice.
“
Sergeant, my name is Clive Toussel and I'm an EMT. We're going to get you out of there in just a moment. You were involved in a significant vehicular accident. Your partner, Tomko, is out of the vehicle and doing okay. We found a motorcycle about one hundred feet behind your vehicle but have not found the...”
“
What the hell is wrong with my eye? I can't feel my left eye and I can't see out of it.”
“
Sergeant, you have sustained serious injuries...”
“
I fucking know that!” Shaver screamed out. Pain started to stand out in localities around his body. The pain in his left knee was excruciating. Every time he took a breath it felt like someone was stabbing him between the ribs. But his left eye was the most alarming to him. He still couldn't see out of it. “What the hell is wrong with my left eye!” Shaver could feel liquid running down his face and over his lips.
“
Let's just get you out of here first, Sergeant.”
“
I want to know now!” All of a sudden Shaver heard Tomko's voice come from his other side.
“
Sergeant, no mincing words. You're a mess,” Tomko said.
“
I can fucking feel that, Tomko. Bones will heal. I'm worried about my eye.”
“
I don't know what to say...” Tomko took a deep breath. “It looks like some debris embedded in your eye. Honestly, there isn't much left there.”
“
Sergeant, we have an ambulance here ready to transfer you to an emergency room just a mile away. We have to unbuckle you first...”
“
You mean my eye, it's gone?”
“
Excuse me, Sergeant.”
“
It doesn't look good, Sarge,” Tomko said.
The EMT chimed in, “Doctors really can perform miracles these days, you never know. Maybe they can fix it.”
Shaver screamed out and started thrashing his arms. The EMT called for something and Shaver barely felt a pinch on his shoulder, then everything went black again.
* * * *
The Chief ground his teeth as he watched the news. A helicopter provided an aerial shot. Its high-powered light focused on an overturned, black SUV. A reporter was relaying some facts the Chief halfway paid attention to.
“
Appears to be a city vehicle…two survivors motorcycle involved…no apparent survivor from the motorcycle...”
The Chief sighed and turned off the television. His hand steadily increased its pressure on the remote control until he hurled it against the wall. The shattered remote drew his wife's attention.
“
Honey, you all right in there?” Hearing no answer but a grunt, and having learned to leave that temperamental man alone after twenty-two years of marriage, she returned to what she was doing.
The Chief picked up his cell phone and walked outside.
“
It's me and it's time. I want you to go to 76th and Delmuth. Confirm for me what I already know—that Shaver and Tomko were in the accident. I'm going to go back to the office to deal with this fucking disaster. I'm sure those two were already taken to the hospital, so make that your second visit.”