NANOVISION: What Would You Do With X-ray Vision? (17 page)

Judy Salinski
answered the door unprepared for Mickey’s appearance. She assumed the UPS guy
was legit−that the cop had checked him out. It was a near fatal mistake.
As their eyes met, Mickey and Judy recognized one another instantaneously; only
for her it was too late. Mickey’s hand was already on his gun in the box and he
plugged Judy twice, catching her in the shoulder and collar bone. She fell
backwards into the house as Mickey burst in. The other agent with Judy wasn’t
nearly so lucky. As he exited the kitchen Mickey caught him with two rounds in
the chest. He was dead on the floor in the blink of an eye.

Hearing the
commotion from upstairs, Ethyl and Katie raced down the stairs to see what was
going on, only to find themselves face to face with Mickey. The mobster waved
his gun at them, ordering them into the living room where he could keep an eye
on them. He then stripped Judy of her weapon and was about to kill her when
Ethyl began yelling.

“Don’t! ... Don’t
kill her,” she screamed.

Mickey looked up
at the old woman, his face twisted in anger. “And why noot?” he spat.

Ethyl was no
dummy. She knew who she was facing. Judy had filled her in. “You’re here for my
nephew, Daniel−aren’t you?”

Mickey nodded.
“Aye am.”

“Then you’ll need
her. He’s blind, you know; and he won’t come near here if she’s dead. He won’t
come near here if any of us are dead. They have a secret code−a code that
tells him everyone is safe. She arranged it over the phone this morning.”

Mickey grunted to
himself. “Fock,” he muttered under his breath. He looked at Judy lying on the
floor bleeding. She was a mess and definitely not a threat. “Fock,” he swore
again, the old bitch might be right. “Okay,” he said, “take care of the cunt,
but no funny business.”

Seeing her only
chance to save Judy, Ethyl moved in. “Come on, Katie, give me a hand. The two
of them moved Judy over to the couch where Ethyl began first aid.

*   *   *   *

It was almost ten
by the time Paige and Daniel got out of the Sierra Nevada mountain range and
into an area where Daniel could make a phone call. He dialed home and listened
as the phone rang−the answering machine finally picking up. When the
machine beeped Daniel began talking.

“Hey! Aunt
Ethyl... Katie... it’s me. Anyone there? I hope you guys are all right. I’m
almost home...”

Hearing Daniel’s
voice put Mickey into action. He yelled at Katie. “Get me the fockin’ phone,”
he ordered.

The young girl
bolted for the phone and handed it to Mickey, who hit the speak button.
“...‘ello, piss-ant,” he said.

Daniel was
stunned. “What the fuck are you...” 

Paige sensed
something was wrong. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Daniel waved her
off as Mickey spoke in his ear. “All right yah little fock. Listen up. Aye’ve
got yur fockin’ precious little family right ‘ere and aye’m ready tae cut their
throats − yah wanna see ‘em alive, yah better get ‘ere damn quick.”

“Don’t you hurt
them, asshole. I swear,” Daniel responded.

“Yur not inna
position tae be making demands piss-ant. Now where the fock are yah?”

Daniel covered
the phone with his hand. “Where are we?” he asked Paige, in a panic.

“Interstate
eighty, almost to Sacramento...” she replied.

Daniel reiterated
her answer to Mickey.

Mickey glanced at
his watch. “Yah got till noon, boy. Yah call the cops they’re dead −
anything funny, aye’ll cut ‘em ear tae ear − the young won first!”

The phone line
went dead and Daniel went blank, white as a ghost. He began to shake and Paige
recognized immediately that something was terribly wrong. “What is it?” she
asked.

“He’s there
− in the house,” he answered. “He’s got Katie and my Aunt.”

Daniel’s eyes
began to water as a sense of helplessness overtook him.

“Jesus Christ,”
swore Paige.

“He says I’ve got
till noon before he kills them... What the fuck am I going to do?”

“We’re going to
get you there by noon!” yelled Paige as she floored the gas pedal.

The silence
between Paige and Daniel was almost deafening as she drove like a maniac to
Sacramento.

“You know he’s
going to kill you the moment you enter the house?” she admonished. Daniel
nodded. “And probably them too. We can’t let that happen.”

“So what am I
supposed to do?” he asked, despondently. “If he sees the cops or anyone else
but me, he’ll kill ‘em. I know him − he’s insane.” 

Paige gave Daniel
a long look. “I just don’t want to see you die.” She gave him a squeeze on the
leg.

“Me either...” he
quietly sobbed. “Shit, at least it’ll be with them. Fuck! It took me seventeen
years to find a real family. And I’ve never even seen their faces...”

Paige said
nothing as they drove on, but her anger was building as the wheels in her head
churned. She couldn’t let this bastard, whoever he was, get away with this.
There had to be something she could do. She thought of the gun in her gym
bag−she had plenty of ammunition. But would it be enough? Suddenly an
idea struck and she screamed aloud as she whipped the car to the side of the
freeway, bringing it to a screeching stop. 

“We’re not going
to let that happen!” she yelled to Daniel. “Gimmie the phone! I think I know
someone who might be able to help.”

*    *    *    *

The rest of the
ride to Santa Clara was a whirlwind of panic and stress, but not without
purpose−Paige had a plan. It involved two stops, one at Walmart, the
other an army surplus store run by a guy she had slept with several years back.
She found him online with her phone. Along the way she told Daniel exactly what
he needed to do. She promised that if he did exactly what she said, he just
might survive the ordeal that was coming.

When they arrived
at Los Gatos, Paige followed Daniel’s instructions and minutes later they were
in Rudy’s driveway. The two got out of the car and began to prepare. It took
less than fifteen minutes and Daniel hoped that Paige’s plan would work. He put
on the heavy winter coat they’d bought at Walmart and he stuck the six inch
hunting knife into his front pocket. He then called 9-1-1.

The operator
answered. “9-1-1. What is the nature of your emergency?”

“My name is
Daniel Lewis,” he said. “I want to report a burglary in progress − four
twenty-four Aztec Drive. There’s a man with a gun and he has hostages − I
heard shots please hurry!”

Daniel ended the
call, then dialed his home. The phone rang several times and the answering
machine picked up. “I’m here,” announced Daniel.

Mickey picked up
the phone on his end. “Yah alone?” he snarled.

“Yeah... I want
to talk to my aunt.”

“Yur in nae
position tae demand anything laddie.”

“If you want me
in there, fucker, you put her on.,” snapped Daniel

Mickey looked over
to his hostages. He had the three of them tied up in the kitchen, bound and
gagged with electrical wire and duct tape. Walking over to Ethyl he ripped the
tape from her mouth. “Yur kid wants tae talk,” he said, placing the phone to
her ear.

Ethyl nodded,
yelling into the phone. “Daniel stay away!”

“Satisfied now?”
Mickey spat into the phone. “They’re all alive, but they wonna be if yah don’t
get yur arse in ‘ere now!”

“All right, I’m
coming in, but I wanna see Katie on the porch. If I don’t see her I won’t come.
I’ll disappear right to the police. Benny will love that!”

The threat of
Benny finding out about any of this was more than Mickey could handle. He had
become so single-minded in his coked out brain that logic had flown out the
window a long time ago. He yielded to Daniel’s demand.

“Fine, piss-ant.
She’ll be thar.”

Daniel ended the
call and handed the phone to Paige. “I’m scared,” he said.

“I know,” she
answered, handing him the 9mm. She put her arms around him and gave him a long,
hard hug. “You’ve got ten shots. Just click the safety off and shoot.”

Daniel nodded and
tucked the gun into the small of his back, hiding it under his jacket.

“You’ve got the
hunting knife?”

Daniel patted the
front pocket of his jacket. “Right here, where I can easily grab it.”

“Okay, then,” she
affirmed, “remember, you need to take charge. It’s the only way. If you do, you
just might be able to get your cousin out of there.”

Daniel nodded.
“Paige... I will... never forget you.” He gave her a quick kiss.

“Come back,” she
said, wistfully, kissing him one more time. Her hand slipped to his crotch
where she rubbed him. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Daniel laughed.
Hard as a rock, he replied, “I’ll do my best.”

Moving toward the
hedge that separated the houses, Daniel gave a quick peek around it to see if
Mickey was in sight. He was surprised to see the police car and UPS truck.
What
the hell were they doing there?
Scanning past them, his eyes zoomed in on
the front door, and there, peeking out through a small crack in the door was
Mickey’s face. It loomed before him−the sweaty brow, nervous eyes, and
the licking of his lips. The guy was a wreck, a cannon ready to explode.

Daniel glanced
back at Paige. “Here goes nothing.”

He placed his
sunglasses on, hiding his eyes, and stepped out and around the hedge. “I’m over
here,” he yelled to Mickey. “Where’s Katie?”

Mickey opened the
door slowly, dragging Katie into view. He had the girl in a stranglehold with
his arm around her chest and neck, his gun pressed to her temple. “She’s right
‘ere, piss-ant,” he yelled, defiantly. “Kum on in.”

Daniel walked
slowly toward the house, hoping to give Mickey the impression he was having
trouble seeing−hoping he’d be taken in. As he walked, he kept a close eye
on the hitman’s face. He could see the blood vessels near his temple beating
furiously and the fingers on his gun hand twitch. Daniel knew Mickey
desperately wanted to take a shot at him, but he feared missing. If he did,
he’d be on the run and he might not get another chance.

When Daniel reached
the steps, he saw Mickey step back, opening the door wide for him to enter.
Daniel now had a full view of the interior of the house. In the kitchen he
could see his Aunt tied to a chair. She looked scared and her eyes were
screaming at him not to come in. Behind her was another woman also tied
up−she was hurt and really looked out of it. Daniel’s mind raced. Who was
she? Her long dark hair raised his suspicions; it had to be Judy Salinski. That
made sense. She’d come to help, but got hurt instead. Daniel then noticed the
body lying on the floor behind them. He had no idea who it was.

“Come on,
piss-ant, quit stalling−aye ain’t got all day,” Mickey snarled.

Daniel took a
step. He could tell Mickey was on the edge. Reaching the porch Daniel began to
talk, mostly to Katie. It was his first time seeing her and he couldn’t believe
how pretty she was−and so young. He had to get her out of there.

“You okay?” he
asked, as he stepped toward the front door.

She nodded her
head.

“Don’t be
afraid−Duffer−en Prise,” he said, giving her one of their chess
moves, and hoping to hell she’d understand.

“Enough of the
fockin’ small talk, piss-ant. Get in ‘ere,” growled Mickey.

Entering the
house, Daniel edged his way back along the inside wall, giving himself a few
feet of space. He watched as Mickey licked his lips, knowing full well he had
Daniel trapped−that he was going nowhere. He even seemed to relax a
little. It was time.

“You sure Benny’s
going to approve of your killing me?” Daniel asked.

Mickey smiled his
slick, sick grin. “Piss-ant, nuthin’ gets done without Benny’s approval. But
this time this one’s on me.”

With the reply
barely off his tongue, Daniel did the unexpected. He charged toward Mickey,
yelling at the top of his lungs, “Run, Katie, Run!” while pulling the knife out
of his pocket. The blade flashed in the light as he wielded it high above his
head, screaming like a madman as he drove it toward Mickey’s chest.

The charge
surprised Mickey. There was no way he had anticipated this. Reacting
instinctively, the hitman dropped back, and without thinking, he released Katie
while focusing his attention on Daniel. The 45 in his hand exploded as he
pumped three quick rounds into Daniel, hitting him squarely in the chest. The
shots tore into Daniel, knocking him back a good ten feet, blood spewing
everywhere. He landed back on the floor near the base of the piano.

Screaming for
dear life, Katie bolted out the front door, running helter-skelter into the
front yard. Mickey laughed as he turned and raised his gun. The young pluck
wouldn’t get away. His finger squeezed the trigger, but the shot never
came−at least not from his gun. Ten shots did ring out, but they were
from another weapon−a 9mm held by Daniel as he lay on the floor. With
both hands shaking, he aimed the Glock, firing at Mickey as fast as his finger
could pull the trigger. Seven bullets made their mark, spraying Mickey from top
to bottom, catching him all over−in the leg, the stomach, the chest and
even the right cheek and eye. And as each one tore into the hitman, he danced
and jerked like Pinocchio on a bonfire, twisting and jumping as each slug sank
into his coked out, tired-ass body. Daniel’s gun clicked empty just as Mickey
fell to the floor. Adrenalin pumping, Daniel rolled over on his stomach. With
his ribs broken in three places and under extreme pain, he crawled toward
Mickey.