Ch. 29 – Cutting It Close

Chapter Twenty-Nine – Cutting It Close

The building rose before his eyes like a fortress. In daylight, it should have displayed none of the ominous signs of its true purpose, but the men in dark clothes roaming the perimeter lent it that exact quality, the rays of the still bright sun bouncing off their shiny weapons, blinding him now and then for a moment.

He needed to think this through. There was no room for failure, no room for a misstep of any kind. Otis was there, trapped inside that machinery made of evil and concrete. That was what he felt, deep inside his gut. Sure, there was always the chance that Jackie had succeeded in getting both himself and Otis to safety, a glimmer of hope and also a door wide open for Hudson to search for a way out, not a way in.

The duty he had sworn to his career prompted him to save his skin and let his colleagues know about the change of plans. They had to trap all of these scumbags, all these sorry excuses for human beings, and then lock them up forever. If they escaped punishment this time, who knew how much hurt and suffering they would continue to spread in the world? And it had to happen at just the right time and in just the right way, or they would just get away, based on technicalities and who knew what else.

He could tell himself there was no way out. That the walls were too high, the electric fence that had been added to the layout an insurmountable obstacle, and all the entry and exit points too well-guarded. And maybe all that was even true.

But he had to check first to make sure that Otis was no longer there. He'd only leave if he knew that. Do his best to leave, anyway. He doubted it would be some walk in the park to escape the premises, seeing what sort of security detail was now in place. 

That meant that he needed to do the opposite of what these people expected him to do. He kept both hands on his gun after he checked it to see that it hadn't been fiddled with somehow, without his knowledge. The loss of the burner phone still stung. Whether Angel – it must have been him – was an expert in pickpocketing, or he had been insufficiently concerned and aware of his surroundings for a moment more than he should have been.

The front was no dice. He needed to find a way through the back. If he moved behind the abandoned pipes and crates with enough care, he'd be able to sneak along the side wall and then end up behind the building. He had seen enough of it to know where the best entry point was for him to do his duty to Otis. 

If it hadn't been for him, Otis would be free now. The thought kept pestering him like a vicious fly, bent on infecting him with doubt. He pushed it away. The time for him to do something about it was now. 

He looked from behind the stack of pipes at the men ensuring the security of the place. They appeared unconcerned for the most part, as if guarding a place where they slaughtered innocents was business as usual. How much of what was going on inside that building did they know about? Another detail that had no importance. If any of those assholes pointed his gun at him, Hudson knew he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger first. His years with the force had ensured he didn't lack the skill or determination when it came down to either him or the perp.

He sauntered to the wall the moment he spotted an opportunity. So far, so good. He slunk along, the sound of his steps on the gravel path too loud in his ears. Once he reached the corner, he listened for a moment before taking a look.

Someone was coming, his steps heavy and confident. Someone patrolling, perhaps. Hudson waited, all the sinews, bones and muscles in his body at the ready. The steps were getting closer. 

He acted before even spotting the man. He hit him in the face with the butt of his gun, so hard that bones were crushed on impact. He grabbed and silenced the man with his hand before he could yell and alert the others. But this guy was no ordinary grunt, it seemed, because despite the blood pouring from his nose and the pain that had to come with it, he pushed back and reached for his gun.

Hudson elbowed him hard in the chin and the guy fell on his back. There was no way of telling if anyone else was patrolling the usually deserted back, so Hudson pulled the man by the feet and then rolled him close to the outside fence where the overgrown plants and bushes no one had cut in ages made an adequate cover for now.

He didn't intend to kill anyone if he could help it, although the chances of that were slim. This guy might be in luck, since he was unconscious. Hudson made quick work of removing the guy's belt and tied his hands and feet behind his back in a way that would make it hard for him to free himself. There was one other aspect he needed to take care of; he searched the guy's pockets and stuffed his mouth with a handkerchief, using the straps from the small backpack he was carrying to secure that in place, too.

He grabbed the guy's rifle and hiked it over his shoulder. With so many potential enemies roaming the place, every bullet counted. He pushed the two magazines he found in the guy's pockets inside his jeans for quick access.

Just when he was about to leave, he noticed something odd. There was something else in the overgrown grass. Hudson looked around for a moment, keeping a close watch on his surroundings, and then walked over to where he had noticed the hidden object.

It was a black combat boot. And it was attached to a foot. Hudson pushed the tall bush in his path away and then saw the owner of the boot. A guy in black, similar in clothing and built to the one he had just neutralized lay there, on his belly. Hudson knelt by his side and checked his pulse. This one was dead. What the hell did that mean? 

He had no time for questions without answers. Could it be that man was not supposed to be there? Hudson turned him over, expecting with dread to catch a glimpse of a familiar face – someone from the police op team getting ideas in his head? But no, he didn't know him, and he didn't look like law enforcement, either.

There was still the mystery of his death. If he had to take a guess, Hudson was thinking the guy must have been shot. He checked the body and found another magazine for the same type of rifle he had grabbed. That went into his stash, as well. 

He was about to get out of the hiding place when he heard voices. Quickly, he dropped back down to the ground, crouching, hoping that the brush was high and thick enough to conceal him. He gripped the rifle tightly. If there was going to be a shootout, at least he needed to be fast, accurate and deadly.

There were two of them, also dressed in black and armed with shotguns. Hudson observed them as they walked past, talking to each other, something about a match coming up the next Sunday. Such a normal thing to talk about given the circumstances. After they disappeared from view, Hudson still waited to see if they came back, and only when they didn't, he got out. 

Time was of the essence. If Otis was still inside, Hudson would raise hell to get him out.

***

Time moved like molasses when this happened. Otis was vaguely aware that someone – Jackie, most likely – had placed him with his back resting against a wall, and he was on a soft surface, a bed perhaps. The earlier fight had ended with Angel leaving, the door slamming hard behind him, and Jackie crying and whispering things to himself to soothe his broken heart. 

Otis couldn't even blink, or he wasn't aware of doing so anymore. He wished he could offer Jackie a hand, although he knew there were no words to soothe a pain like what poured out of the young man's mouth. The person named Sweetheart, he must have been someone very dear to him. And Angel had admitted to having had something to do with that person's death. Maybe he was just mean, maybe he had said those things only to hurt Jackie. There were people like that, who enjoyed seeing others suffer, for all the good that did. There was no good to be had from other people's suffering, and still, some caused it nonetheless.

"Oh, fuck, Otis, what the hell am I going to tell Vegas?" Jackie pleaded, still sniffling from time to time. "There's no way I'm letting those fuckers hurt you, do you hear me? You probably don't, and it's scary to see you like this, but I made a promise. I'm going out for a moment. I need to check the place and see if there's a way out."

Otis wanted to cry and shout and tell Jackie not to leave him, but he was lost to the world and had no means of protecting himself or even begging for others' protection.

***

He was inside now. There was no way he was fooling himself; from this moment onward, he was trapped and surrounded. Gavin would tell him he was a big freaking idiot; the captain would use nicer terms, but the gist would be the same. He was nuts to attempt this when he had already delegated Otis's rescue to Jackie. When it came to his boyfriend, apparently, he couldn't let go so easily.

The long hallway opened in front of him. Quiet. Everyone must be in the main room or close to it, rehearsing their roles. Did they have the slightest idea what they were rehearsing for? Hudson doubted it. No one in their right mind would still be there willingly if that were the case. Jasper had learned of their evil plans, and look where that had gotten him. He was as good as a vegetable, and a – still – living reminder for Hudson that maybe he wasn't as good at his job as he thought himself to be.

Chase away your doubts. They're no use. Hudson walked swiftly, his hand on the rifle, ready to eliminate anyone that was an immediate threat or run back the same way he had come in if that was a choice. 

A door opened behind him and he ducked into one of the adjoining rooms that, thankfully, was open. He closed it slowly, praying that the hinges didn't need oiling, and kept it slightly ajar so that he could steal a glance outside.

More men in black uniforms. Where the hell had they gotten all these guys? They weren't particularly bright. Hudson had taken one down, and there was also the matter of the dead one. 

He waited until the sound of their footsteps died away and opened the door with infinite care. First, he'd check all the rooms where they usually kept the models and then head over to the main one. With a bit of luck, Otis would no longer be there. And being on the inside wasn't such a bad idea. Since there was no way for him to know if the cavalry would arrive in time, it was up to him to stop the massacre that was scheduled for that evening.

Another door opened and Hudson drew back. He did have time, however, to see Jackie walking toward the place where he was hiding. His heart sank; if Jackie was still there, that meant that Otis was, too.

At least, he had an answer. 

Jackie moved past his door rapidly. He went for the door in the back by the sound of his steps. Could it be he was still trying to get out? Hudson waited and listened.

"What do we have here?" someone sneered.

"Fuck off, dude," Jackie replied. "Get your hands off me!"

There were sounds of a struggle, so Hudson opened the door wider. He looked out, making sure to keep himself as concealed as possible. Two of the security men were holding Jackie and feeling him up. 

"He must be one of the guys who're going to show it all on stage tonight."

"Yeah, inside and out," the other commented and laughed. Then, he made a disgusting gesture as if he had just had his belly cut and was trying to hold in his intestines.

Hudson set his jaw hard. So they knew. 

"Who says we can't have a bit of fun with this one?" the first man said and grabbed Jackie by the back of his neck. "Do you know how to blow a dude, sweetheart?"

Jackie let out such an anguished cry that Hudson felt his hair stand on end. He saw everything happening as if in slow motion, Jackie lunging at the guy to strangle him, the other lifting his weapon. 

He was so quick he had no idea he'd moved until the two bodies hit the ground, a fraction of a second separating them. Jackie remained standing between them, choking and trembling like a leaf.

"Jackie," Hudson called out in a whisper as he ran toward him, "it's okay."

Jackie turned to face him, still shaking. "Vegas," he mumbled. "For fuck's sake." Tears were pouring freely down his cheeks. "I couldn't. They fucking caught us. And Watkins killed one."

One mystery solved. Hudson grabbed Jackie and hugged him briefly. "Where's Otis? How is he?"

"He's not moving, man." Jackie started crying harder.

Hudson felt his heart stop. "What do you mean? Is he dead?"

"No, but it's like he's frozen. He's in that room, but not easy to move."

That didn't matter. He'd hike him up on his shoulder and run with him. No, that would be stupid with so many armed men around. He needed to fucking think.

By his side, Jackie babbled on. "And Angel… he killed Sweetheart, Vegas."

Hudson looked around. He wasn't surprised by that revelation. "We need to hide these bodies. Quick."

"Didn't you hear me, man?" Jackie continued his plea.

Hudson grabbed his arm. "I hear you, loud and clear. They're going to get what's coming to them. But now, help me hide these assholes."

Jackie obeyed. "When are your guys coming?"

Who the hell knew?

"They don't know it's going down tonight."

"Fuck this shit," Jackie barely whispered. "What are we going to do?"

"First, hide these bodies," Hudson repeated the same words.

He opted for the room where he had just been. Jackie grabbed one guy by the legs and Hudson lifted one up, so they finished fairly quickly. And just in time. Because that place seemed to be frequented by those assholes more than he hoped for.

He didn't close the door, just like before. Good call not grabbing Otis because with him in his arms, they'd end up being easy targets. Acting in such a short time, they hadn't been able to wipe away the traces of their actions. There was fresh blood in the hallway, and if those guys missed it, they had to be blind. 

"Jackie," Hudson said in a low whisper, "do you know how to use a gun?"

He wouldn't normally part with his service weapon, but Jackie needed something smaller than a rifle. The poor guy was still trembling from head to toe. 

"Yeah," Jackie replied.

"Take it," Hudson said and handed him his gun. "Now, don't hesitate."

They barely had time to get behind the door, as the two from the hallway blasted in. Hudson saw both guys falling at the same time, which meant Jackie had just come through.

"Good," he said. "But I guess all this shooting is starting to draw attention. Hide that gun, keep it on you, and go watch over Otis."

"Can't I stay with you? Kill all these fuckers?"

"I need you to take care of him," Hudson said, grabbing Jackie by the shoulders. "Now, go back to that room and pretend everything is normal. When they come running, you say you heard shooting and chose to stay inside. And keep that gun out of sight."

"Like a coward," Jackie murmured.

"Hey, they're not going to pay if we're dead," Hudson said.

Jackie nodded. "Okay. And thanks, Vegas. For earlier."

"Don't mention it."

***

Jackie was back, Otis could tell. He felt his hand touching him briefly.

"Vegas is here," Jackie said quickly. "He's going to take those bastards down. He gave me his gun."

Otis saw the thing pushed before his eyes. He recognized it. It was Hudson's gun. He tried to be happy but he couldn't shake it off. That strange paralysis with a weird name. 

Jackie straightened up quickly and moved away from him. Someone else was coming in. 

Watkins. Otis now recognized him, even by his smell, something that reminded him of unwashed clothes. As they said in movies and books, he stank of fear, and why would he feel fear since he was one of the bad guys?

"Jackie, did you see anything? Who's shooting?"

"How the hell should I know? I heard the shots, I hid in here and prayed that whoever's outside didn't come for me, too." Jackie's voice was quivering.

"Stop looking so fucking spooked," Watkins barked at him. "If this works, we're rich and won't have to work ever again."

"Is it true?" Jackie asked, his voice deep and hurt now. "What Angel keeps saying? That you're my uncle?"

"What? What did that idiot tell you?" Watkins sounded guilty now. "Don't be stupid. Can't you see we're nothing alike?"

"Yeah, I can tell. Is that what your business is all about? Getting guys, what, murdered on stage?"

Otis couldn't turn his head to witness what was going on with his own eyes so he had to depend on what he was hearing alone. Watkins must have grabbed Jackie hard.

"Don't you dare shoot your mouth off at me, punk. It's because of me you haven't ended up like the others yet. And the big boss likes you a bit too much, you know?"

"I ain't scared of him. Or you." Jackie's bravado was threadbare, but perhaps he needed it to survive this nightmare. Otis found no fault in his behavior.

"Oh, you're not? Maybe I should drag your sorry ass to Keres and tell him he's free to have a go at you. What do you say?"

"I call bullshit," Jackie said back. "You ain't gonna let him do nothing to me. 'Cause you're my freaking uncle and that explains everything."

"Keep your shit together. That's all you have to do. And keep your eyes on this broken doll. We can't afford to lose him. If he disappears somehow, I won't deny Keres having you on that stage instead. What do you say? Play this as I tell you."

"Okay," Jackie said in a low menacing voice. "I just want to know one thing. How did it happen with Sweetheart? Who got him?"

"Why do you want to know something like that?"

"Was it Angel?"

"He told you that?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, it's true."

"And you? Where were you? Watching?"

"Yes. Not like I had a choice. Unlike these freaks, I don't get off on it. Don't play the high and mighty with me, Jackie."

"I won't." 

Watkins walked out of the door. "Good. I see that we understand each other."

Jackie continued talking, even with the door closed between him and his uncle. "You can be sure that I'm going to come down to your level and kill your sorry ass. For Sweetheart."

Revenge wasn't good for the soul. But Otis doubted the heavens themselves would deny Jackie that bitter solace.

***

Hudson closed his eyes for a moment. He couldn't stay in that room long, not with red marks on the floor pointing at him there; a neon sign flashing above his head would make for a less visible sign. By now, they had to know there was an enemy on the loose, and that wouldn't make things easy at all. Taking those guys out one by one was one thing, but dealing with a whole army rushing at him was completely different. 

He checked the rifle and fed it a new magazine. Better be prepared to take down more than one scumbag or two. And now, he needed to move on. He checked the hallway for signs of life and hurried toward the exit. His plan was to see where the forces gathered up front had gone, and if their numbers had dwindled after the whole ruckus inside.

He was in the brush, catching his breath for a moment, when the speakers began wheezing to life. It was easy to recognize Keres's robotic voice. 

"Dear ladies and gents, it appears that we will get to enjoy a bit of pre-show entertainment. It wasn't in the initial plan, and I'm telling it to you now so that the frisson of novelty can provide you with the much-needed pleasure of a manhunt. Yes, here, on our premises, we have a beast looking for a way out. Our men have been instructed to catch him alive, but since he's quite the wild animal, all bets are off. And speaking of bets, you can place yours. Let's say… how long do you believe it will take our men to bring him down or to us for later amusement? I should add, the beast on the loose is not to be underestimated. He is, after all, trained."

The speakers died down, and Hudson cursed under his breath. He had expected as much. That also bought him time, and not only him. By now, knowing that Hudson's cover had to be as good as gone, he'd be on his way to organize a different type of intervention. But all that was in doubt in terms of time and strength of operation since their initial goal was different.

Hudson knew the captain would want to save his ass. But, in the meantime, he didn't plan on letting anyone down. He'd do his job, and he'd save his own ass. 

He moved slowly, making sure not to make a lot of noise and still remain hidden in the tall wild bushes. Still, he'd check on the front, as planned. Then, his better chances still lay inside, where it was more difficult for his would-be killers to come at him in large numbers from all sides.

As he had expected. They hadn't given up on guarding the main entrance, and there were still six men there. Without knowing their precise number, Hudson could easily assume that the most of them were now inside, looking for him. 

He raised his rifle, taking aim. It was high time to even the odds a bit. 

The first man fell, executing a clumsy pirouette, and the second had no better chance. Hudson crouched low as random bullets flew over his head. Two more down, an unknown quantity left. Those marksmanship classes he had taken at the captain's suggestion were really paying off now. 

The wall above his head was chipped to the rhythm of the shots fired at him. They would come closer to check after a while, and, in the meantime, more guys would pour out of the building, excited by the thrill of the chase.

How many would he have to kill before those security guys figured out they were fodder for the man who had hired them? Would they turn against the hand that fed them? 

Unknown quantity, he told himself. The more he dropped, the better.

***

"What are you doing here? I don't want to see your fucking face," Jackie yelled at someone coming into the room.

"So what? I need to inject this guy with the medicine for tonight. This shit takes time to work."

Angel. Another name that made his skin crawl now that he knew more about the young man in question. 

"You don't fucking touch him or I kill you," Jackie said.

"Fuck off already. I lied, okay? About Sweetheart. I had no idea you were so into him. And I had nothing to do with it. I learned about it later. Come on, you know we can be friends, you and me."

Otis doubted it. Angel sounded honest, but then, only earlier, Watkins had told Jackie that what Angel had confessed the first time was true. Jackie wouldn't be so easy to fool, even though he had puppy eyes that Otis remembered clearly. Even though he seemed to be what people called too gullible for his own good.

"I'm going to be your friend when hell freezes over. Leave him alone," Jackie said in a tense voice.

"Come on, Jackie, you don't want the poor guy to feel it while he gets cut up and dismembered and who knows what else."

"Do you hear yourself? How can you even talk like that?"

"I care about my skin, okay? You know, when I found out we're going to have another show of this type, I wanted to bail. Seriously. It took your uncle a whole lotta of convincing to make me come back."

"I don't believe a word that comes out of your mouth."

"Well, believe what you want. Now, let me do my job. Hey, cut that out. Okay, fine. He's a goner, anyway. And if he wakes up screaming, it's on you. Also, since I hate his fucking guts, it's all for the better. I hope he wakes up screaming."

Angel protested some more while Jackie must have been kicking him out the door. Otis tuned out the sounds. Wake up screaming. He had learned to deal with his nightmares, taught himself to look them in the face and struggle to find the tiniest scraps of courage that existed somewhere, inside him.

***

What were the guys who were supposed to be part of the show thinking of that announcement and all the shooting taking place? Hudson wondered briefly as the hallway behind him was now littered with bodies. He winced at the burn in his shoulder and ignored his own limping. It wasn't like he expected to get out of this unscathed. Superficial wounds still hurt like a bitch.

His goal was to reach Keres. If he found the guy, all bets were off. That sorry excuse for a human being would have to call off his hounds, and then, they might start negotiating. Although Hudson knew those fuckers had one chip to trade that was nonnegotiable in his eyes. 

Otis. Who had turned into a statue, according to Jackie, under the weight of the shock of his kidnapping and everything else that followed. Maybe that was mercy; maybe it was for the better that he could no longer see and hear the horrible things happening around him. 

He hadn't forgiven himself for Pete, either. He doubted he'd forgive himself for Otis.

His first bet was on the room to which he had been summoned that very morning, a time that already seemed so far away. He doubted that he would still find Keres there, but he had to check each of those rooms, anyway.

He started when the chair moved and turned, revealing the man in charge. Hudson pointed the gun at him.

"Please come in and close the door after you," Keres said with a smile that made his lips stretch like a pair of rubber bands.

Hudson closed the door with his foot without looking behind him. He'd be trapped in here but better not to have some asshole shooting him from behind. He made sure to move away from the door, so that he wouldn't get killed through it by his enemies filling the door with lead. All this time, Keres watched his every move, that unsettling smile never leaving his face.

"Call them off," Hudson said. "Free all the boys, everyone that's not your goon or ally. And I'll let you live."

"Hmm, it feels like we have quite the standoff," Keres commented and pressed his gloved hands together, steepling them in front of him on the desk. "I could have everyone eliminated, everyone you care about, at least, and shooting me wouldn't bring them back."

"Are you going to make that call with me here? I dare you," Hudson said.

Keres laughed. It didn't sound like human laughter at all. "No, it pleases me to have to deal with someone as gifted as you. Under other circumstances, I'd even offer you a place in my organization."

"No, thank you. Employment in your organization doesn't last very long, from what I've seen so far."

"Well said." Keres wagged a finger at him, looking horribly pleased. "You are a very interesting person, Mr. West."

"So you know," Hudson said in a deadpan voice.

"It wasn't easy information to obtain."

"Who told you?"

Keres's disgusting grin was the answer.

"Do I even know the guy?"

"Too small fry for you to know. And a big operation like that," Keres tsked all-knowingly, "is bound to have some loose ends."

Hudson still kept his weapon trained on the guy, weighing his options. "So you know what's going down? And the show is still on?"

"Why would I cancel it? Yes, I suppose that the good guys in blue will appear at some point. But that will only make it more interesting. Let's say that in my life I've learned the thrill of cutting it close. Would you like to hear my story, Mr. West? My real life story? We have time, and you're still trying to decide whether killing me would lead to the demise of that beautiful thing or not. Aren't you?"

"Mindreading is hardly your strongest suit," Hudson replied coldly.

He would buy some time. The demented fucker in front of him was cunning, but the clock wasn't working to his advantage.

TBC