Girl Undercover 10 & 11: The Abduction & Dante's Inferno, page 13
Only then did I—and everyone else it seemed—notice that Javier had thrown aside his weapon and was out on the terrace, about to repeat the same act that his lover had just performed. He held the same kind of long, flexible pole in his hands and sprinted across the terrace. A chunky man right next to the terrace door got to his feet and ran over to pick up Javier’s machine gun right as Javier reached the railing and stuck the pole far out into the ocean, vaulting himself away from us. As he flew up into the air, the chunky man fired the machine gun at the flying hybrid over and over. Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta. Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta. Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta…
One or more of the bullets must have hit Javier because his arch through the air came to an abrupt end, and he dropped straight down into the ocean like he was a bird that the man had just shot. The man lowered the machine gun to his side and stared at the space in the water where Javier had disappeared.
“That’s for killing my trainer, you fucker,” the shooter, squat and curly-haired with a gut, screamed at the water, shaking a fist at it. “Now I’ll never get in shape.”
Staring at the man, I didn’t know whether to commend him or scold him for what he’d just done, his final comment was so bizarre.
I decided to ignore him for now as he threw the weapon on the floor and strode over to one of the bodies in the middle of the studio. He sank down beside it and started to cry. I got to my feet and ran out to the terrace to see if I could spot Tim somewhere out in the ocean. While he had vaulted a significant distance, I hoped that I’d still be able to catch him. Unlike Javier, he was probably still alive.
Leaning over the railing, I squinted out into the ocean. But I couldn’t see anything that appeared like a man swimming in the blue vastness despite that the water was calm and it was fairly bright out yet. Was he still swimming under the surface? He had to. There was nowhere else to go but down in order to hide. Being a hybrid, I thought that scenario was far more likely than that he had drowned. He might be able to hold his breath for several minutes, longer than any normal person could, while still swimming fast. Since I couldn’t see him, I had no idea in which direction he was heading in that case. Which meant that he’d probably get away, as long as he had the strength and endurance to swim for a while before returning back to land somewhere along the coast. No, he would get away, I corrected myself. I doubted these two would have planned to escape this way unless they had what it takes to not only be under water for a long period of time, but to also swim miles with heavy backpacks on their backs.
Well, at least we have Javier, I thought. His body had appeared and it was floating closer and closer toward land. Several cops had emerged, all of them having entered the ocean.
It dawned on me that it was fortunate that we had his body; surely it would be easy for a medical examiner to determine that he was not your regular human being. All the doctor needed to do was test his DNA. I smiled when I considered how the physical evidence of Javier combined with Dr. Sokoloff’s assessment of me would finally open Brady’s eyes to what was going on, force him to accept the truth.
I turned around and headed back into the room to make sure Dante was taken care of. His wound might have been sealed, but he still needed medical attention as soon as possible.
When I entered the studio again, it was filled with cops and paramedics. Some of the hostages were hugging each other, a couple crying with relief, while others were talking to the cops. I grabbed a couple of the paramedics and directed them toward Dante. A paramedic was already attending to him and instructed the other two to get a stretcher.
“What the hell happened?” Dante asked as I sank down beside him. “Who did that guy shoot?” Sitting all the way in a corner at the other end of the studio, away from the rest of the hostages, he hadn’t been able to see through the windows how the hybrids had vaulted themselves out into the ocean.
By the time I had filled him in on the latest turn of events, the paramedics returned with a stretcher and carried Dante out of the studio.
A black LAPD sergeant went up to the shooter, who was standing up now and had stopped crying. The sergeant said something to him that I couldn’t hear, and a couple of other hostages as well as two cops joined in on the conversation. Pulling out my wallet from my pocket, I walked up to the sergeant. I showed him my LAPD ID card.
“Sergeant, my name’s Gabriella Longoria and I’m a detective with the West Bureau,” I told him. “Narcotics division. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Hello, Detective,” he said. “Sure. I’m Sergeant Rodney Jackson with South.” He stepped away from the others. “Were you among the squad cars who responded to the original call? I didn’t see you out there.”
“That’s because I was inside the studio when you guys all got here.”
“You were inside the studio?” He looked confused. “You mean with the hostages?”
“Um, yeah.” I was embarrassed having to admit that I’d been captured by one of the abductors as I’d come to try and help Dante. I still told it like it was, the entire sequence of events from beginning to end, as quickly as I could since I wanted to join Dante to the hospital.
“And you called twice for assistance and no one came to your help?” the sergeant asked, looking even more confounded now.
“Yes, three times if you include the 911 call Dante’s wife made while I was at their house,” I explained. “So there I was on my own. It was either just wait and see if help would ever arrive or proceed on my own. I chose the latter, obviously.”
Sergeant Jackson rubbed his chin and narrowed his eyes. “Hmm. I wonder why no one responded to your calls.”
“Yeah, me, too. It’s very strange. Someone should look into what’s going on at the call centers. And at my division. In fact, I’ll do so myself as soon as I get out of here.”
“You called your division directly?”
“Yeah. I thought I’d get a quicker response that way as it’s so close to Malibu.”
He nodded. “I can see why you thought so. But why didn’t you also radio in the call? You might’ve gotten a better response if you’d gotten it out on the scanner. You don’t have a radio in your car?”
“No, I’m using my private car. I’m on paid leave.” I swallowed, then proceeded to tell the sergeant exactly why I wasn’t working. “My husband was killed in the beginning of this year, so my captain thought I could use some time off.”
“I’m sorry for you loss,” Sergeant Jackson said automatically, then studied me. “Pardon my poor memory, Detective”—he gave a sheepish chuckle and indicated his graying sideburns—“but I’m getting old. What was your name again?”
“Gabriella Longoria. My husband’s name’s Nick Patroni. Detective Nick Patroni.”
His face lit up in recognition. Then his lips disappeared into a thin line and he expelled a breath through his nostrils, tsking. “I heard about what happened to him. Sadistic fuckers...” He shook his head. “And they’re still out there from what I’ve been told. So you’re his wife. That’s why I thought your name sounded so familiar. You found him, didn’t you?”
“I did, yes.”
He put an awkward hand on my shoulder. “Again, I can’t express how incredibly sorry I am for your loss, Detective. That must have been a terrible experience.”
“It was. Thanks.” My throat tightened up as I suddenly pictured Nick in our bedroom. I looked around the room to compose myself. Cops and paramedics were helping the hostages getting out of the studio, a few were kneeling by the bodies on the floor. Then my gaze landed on the curly-haired, chunky guy who’d shot Javier. I told the sergeant that he was the one who’d taken the second pole-vaulter down, remembering how I wanted them to perform an autopsy on the body so they could see that he wasn’t like your average Joe.
“I have reason to believe that something else besides the gun shots might have killed him,” I said. “Or at least affected him profoundly, which was why he and his friend could pole-vault so far out into the ocean with such ease. It seemed he was high on something. Frankly, I’m not sure what’s going on except that something’s up with these two guys. The ME should perform a thorough autopsy on the dead one and see if they can find out what’s going on. Check his blood, heart, lungs. The works. Do you think you can make that happen?”
“I can’t see why not. I’ll discuss it with the Malibu Sheriff since we’re in their jurisdiction, but I doubt he’ll object. I’m gonna have some of my team go out in boats to see if they can find that other hostage taker. He probably drowned. Since he got so much farther out, they’ll have their work cut out until they find him.”
I smiled. “Sounds great, Sergeant. Thank you.” I didn’t have the time or energy to explain that I didn’t think they would find Tim any time soon, at least not by searching the bottom of the ocean; he wouldn’t believe me if I told him the reason anyway. I shot another glance into the buzzing studio. “Well, it seems you have everything under control here. I’ll be happy to leave a statement as to what happened here today, but for now, if you’d excuse me, I’d like to accompany my friend to the hospital.” I gave him the number to my burner phone that I had left in the car so he and the Malibu PD could reach me.
The sergeant gave me his card, then let me leave the premises.
I hurried outside, hoping that the ambulance with Dante in it had yet to take off. I found it in the nick of time, just as it was beginning to pull out of the parking lot behind Cuerpos.
Rushing up to the driver, I banged on the window and showed him my LAPD ID. When he stopped the car and rolled down the window, I told him I needed to talk to Dante, claiming he was a material witness to all that had happened tonight to be absolutely sure he wouldn’t blow me off. He reluctantly agreed to let me get inside the ambulance and opened the back doors. I scurried behind the vehicle. Waving my ID at the paramedics sitting beside Dante, I told them that it was crucial that I spoke to him right away. They immediately let me come aboard.
“But make it quick,” one of the paramedics said as he and the other guy got to their feet, apparently planning to give us privacy by stepping out of the ambulance. “You get two minutes. We need to get him to a hospital.”
“Understood,” I said as I realized that I should have just told them the truth instead of pulling the cop card. But it was too late now; admitting that all I’d wanted was to ride with Dante and provide emotional support during the ambulance ride, nothing else, would probably piss them off. He could use plenty of that after what he’d been through this evening. To keep up appearances, I’d exchange a few words with him, then leave so he could get medical assistance ASAP. I’d have to follow him to the hospital where they’d take him in my own car and we could talk more there.
“Hey,” I said, leaning over him where he lay strapped in and taking his hand. He was a little pale still, but overall didn’t look too bad. Being in the hands of professionals now, he’d be just fine. “How are you feeling?”
“Hey,” he said and smiled weakly. “Much better now that they gave me some pain killers.” He nodded toward the IV attached to his arm. “Unfortunately, that does jack shit for all the mental pain I’m going through at the moment. Not only have I lost three of my trainers, but this’ll be the end of Cuerpos. No one’s gonna wanna come and work out here after this has been all over the news. People are gonna wonder why the fuck they chose my gym and assume I’m shady. Which I am, a former gangbanger and all. The press will eat that shit up, probably think I’m part of it or somethin’, and then I’m done. I know it sounds selfish, but I can’t help but feel a little sorry for myself.” He sighed heavily, then gave me a crooked grin. “But enough about me. How are you? You okay, chica?”
I squeezed his hand, having suspected all along that he’d feel this way. ”I’m fine, don’t worry about me. And you’re probably the last person on earth that I’d call selfish. It’s only normal for you to be upset about all this. I know how much Cuerpos means to you. It’s your livelihood after all and you have a family to support. But I really don’t think it’ll be the end of your baby. It’ll all turn out for the best. You’ll see.”
Dante just smirked like he didn’t have much faith in my words.
“So I guess you never suspected that Javier was a hybrid, huh?” I asked.
Dante grimaced. “No, because I always knew he was gay. You think the other got away?”
“Tim? Yeah, either that or he drowned ’cause I didn’t see him again after he landed in the ocean. My bet is he got away, though. As far as he could vault himself with such little space to take off, this guy has some serious athletic abilities. He can probably stay under water for a long time. The cops are looking for him as we speak, but they don’t know what they’re dealing with, so I doubt they’ll find him.”
“Right.”
I got to my feet and let go of my friend. “I’m gonna leave so you can get to the hospital now. I thought they were gonna let me ride with you, but that’s not happening. I was only allowed to talk to you for a couple minutes. I’ll come to the hospital later.”
“Will you call Ricki and tell her I’m okay?”
“Of course. As soon as I’m out of here. She must be crazy with worry for you. And I’ll call Jose to check in with him and the others, too. Tell them we’re okay.”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll see you soon.” Turning around, I jumped out of the ambulance and the first of the two paramedics climbed back inside. I grabbed the arm of the second.
“Thank you for taking such good care of him. Which hospital are you taking him to?”
The paramedic gave me the name of the hospital, then continued into the ambulance and slammed the doors shut. Only seconds later, the vehicle was back on its way out of the parking lot.
Pushing myself through the crowds of cops and media people and others, I found my car that I’d parked next to the highway and got inside it. I spotted a couple of TV crews around the studio that appeared to still be shooting. They must have arrived soon after the mayor announced the hostage situation, not about to miss an opportunity to convey the drama in real time.
I thought about what Dante had said regarding the media suggesting that he might have something to do with the hostage situation, potentially having staged it despite being shot. Sadly, I had to agree that he had real reason to fear for the reputation of himself and his life’s achievement, Cuerpos. I hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time, though. It wouldn’t take long until LAPD investigators figured out that Dante used to be a member of a vicious street gang. After that, it was only a matter of time until an ambitious reporter found out and wrote about it. There were plenty of shady cops who didn’t mind making a few extra bucks by leaking information about an ongoing investigation to the press.
I sighed, feeling terrible for Dante’s sake, but there wasn’t much I could do about that right now. I had other, more pressing issues to worry about, unfortunately. Like what was going on with my own hostages. Again, I reflected over the absolute irony of managing to be a hostage taker and a hostage myself within the scope of twenty-four hours. I didn’t think many others could boast a similar feat.
It suddenly struck me that Dante might not be the only one to have reason to worry about the press. What if the story reached Jonah’s ears and footage of me was used in TV news reports? Or photos in newspaper articles. It was a big and juicy enough story that national media would cover it. They might mention that LAPD Detective Gabi Longoria had been part of the hostages and show pictures of me. There had been photographers and camera men all over the place, snapping photos and shooting. Jonah or any of his friends who saw me would recognize me in an instant.
How would I explain that?
Chapter 6
I jumped into my Toyota, turning the troubling matter over in my mind as I ignited the engine and pulled out from the roadside. Merging with the traffic, I told myself that I was exaggerating the situation. The chance that a paper or news show would run an image of me in which they also identified me was minuscule—it wasn’t like I was a celebrity like Lindsey Dash and Morgan Stanley exactly. If I was featured for some odd reason, I doubted that Jonah and his friends would pay much attention to it. And if they did, I’d just bluntly deny that it was me, just a woman who looked similar to me. The more I thought about it, the less I worried that it would become an issue.
I found my burner that I’d thrown on the front passenger seat and used it to call Ricki first. She picked up instantly.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded frail.
“Ricki, it’s me, Gabi,” I said, holding the phone with one hand while maneuvering through all the vehicles on the road with my other. The hostage situation had attracted tons of people.
“Oh, Gabi, I saw everything on TV! Is Dante okay? Please tell me he’s okay!”
“Yes, he’s okay. He wasn’t as badly hurt as we thought. Only a flesh wound in his leg. He’s on his way to Marina Del Rey Hospital. He’ll be all right.”
“Oh, thank God.” She let out a breath of relief. “Thank God… My mom’s on her way to our house. She can watch Enrique while I head over to the hospital to see him.”
“I don’t think you’ll be able to talk to him much tonight. He’s on heavy painkillers. By the time you’ll get there, he’ll be passed out.” Or in surgery, I was about to add before cutting myself short. There was no need to worry Ricki without cause; I had no idea whether surgery would be necessary for his leg in the first place. If she was going over there, she’d find out soon enough anyway.
“I just want to see him,” she said. “Be with him, even if he can’t talk. I was so scared that I’d lose him forever. Now that I know that I haven’t, I can’t wait to be with him again.” I could tell that she was smiling big, she was so contented.
