Blood Debts: A Miami Vice Reunion
by Anne Trembley
If anything, what kept them together was their brotherhood, more than
the fight. The fight brought them together, that's true.
When that was gone, they still had that connection, that love.
And THAT is the real victory......
Chapter 1 :: Chapter 2 ::
Chapter 3 :: Chapter 4 ::
Chapter 5 :: Chapter 6 ::
Chapter 7 ::
Chapter 8 :: Chapter 9 ::
Chapter 10 :: Chapter 11 ::
Chapter 12 :: Chapter 13 ::
Chapter 14 ::
Chapter 15 :: Chapter 16 ::
Chapter 17 :: Chapter 18 ::
Chapter 19 :: Chapter 20 ::
Chapter 21
Chapter 3
Friday 11:17 AM Gulf of Mexico
Above
the white noise of various machines could be heard labored shallow
breathing. The old man with the cultured voice and patrician face
and his slight assistant did not bother to lower their voices.
The
subject's ears were covered with soundproof earphones, allowing only the
sounds that Emil wished him to hear. His eyes were covered with
goggles that displayed a continuous series of images fitted to the
client's plans. The assistant sniffed with dissatisfaction.
"He's
strong, I've never seen anyone resist like this."
"Have
no doubt, I will break him."
"I'm
having trouble finding veins to use, they keep collapsing. It's
almost as if he can will them to collapse." The little man's
voice was peevish and worried. "And the bruising is very
conspicuous. Anyone can see it." The lighting of the
room had been changed, as the subject's eyes were now bandaged
shut. In the cold white light, the fierce blue and purple mottling
of the left arm was obvious. Emil's eyes narrowed as he studied the
subject.
"It can't be helped now. Just continue."
12:22 PM Miami
It was
somehow surreal. Only a few hours ago Sonny had been walking
through mixed rain and sleet. Now he sat under a sunshade looking
out at a sultry blue sky patched with postcard perfect clouds and a beach
full of people in swimsuits that covered only essential portions of
skin.
Sonny took
a shot of the bitter espresso, looking out over the soft blue waves
rolling in. "Did Tubbs say when he'd get here?"
"He wasn't sure, so I gave him the beeper number. He had a
standby ticket, said he just had a sudden urge to see the old
clubhouse." Sonny grinned at that.
"Yeah,
what a club. All the fun you can stand."
Switek chirped, "Hey don't forget the great medical
coverage." Sonny twitched his shoulders up with a ironic
wince.
"Don't remind me! I managed to use enough of it."
Arnie, the new kid asked, "What's Vice like up North?"
"I
don't do Vice anymore unless someone asks for help. Cocaine's
rare. What they've got's worse. Crystal Meth. Great
stuff, the State Med. Center wanted to do a drug study on long term
affects? They needed to recruit a group of addicts who'd been on it
for at least five years." Sonny snorted with amusement.
"They couldn't do it."
Switek was
puzzled, "Why not?"
"Couldn't
find enough people who'd lived that long."
Stan's
face said "Euuuuww."
Trudy spoke up then.
"I checked the names we got on the muscle. No connection in
the last six months. The bad part is that no one's seen them in the
last couple days."
"You think
they might have been paid to skip town?"
"Either
that or they took Castillo with them."
Gina looked at Sonny, "Maybe I'm just paranoid, but this doesn't seem
right. Someone doesn't want us involved with looking for the
Lieutenant."
"Have
you dropped the word to your contacts?"
"Yeah,
Trudy and I spent the morning cruising everybody we know, while we were
supposed to be checking Constanza's lady friends. McKinnin won't
know the case is closed."
"Who's
minding this investigation from the top?"
"We
don't know."
Switek voice was acid.
"They
just keep saying don't worry, it's being looked into."
"I
don't like the sound of that at all."
"Well
you know they say Bureaucrats forget anything too unpleasant to
remember."
"Somethi=
ng
really serious has happened. I don't know if they're scared to find
out what it is, or part of it."
Trudy's face had a dark puzzled look.
"The Company's got to know about this. That means with us, or
against us."
Nobody looked real happy.
Sonny downed the last of his bitter espresso.
"So you're supposed to be stuck with the Constanza Case."
"Yeah. As long as we can fake it."
"Well, I'm sort of an observer. Who's still out on the streets
that I might know?"
"A lot of new people since your time."
"Izzy?"
"Oh yeah, there's always Izzy. But He's been trying to go
straight."
"Right."
"Hey no kidding. He's a Paralegal now."
Sonny started to laugh.
A beeper went off. Trudy dipped into her bag. "Lunch is over
for me Guys. A friend at Metro is calling." She smiled at the
others. "Cross your fingers."
Gina spoke up, "Don't forget, two o'clock."
"I'll be there. You guys just get your stories straight."
2:15 PM Miami
The
OCB conference room was silent. Everyone knew their part and their
intentions. Nobody did more then shift coffee cups as they
waited. The windows were brilliant with sunshine and the odd clack
to the aging air-conditioning system that struggled to cool the offices
seemed very loud.
The door
to Castillo's office opened and Sonny watched the magic as a mask
descended over everyone's face. Mckinnin marched heavily in with a
huge wad of papers. He looked disapprovingly around the table, and
back at a list on top of his pile. He stared hard at Sonny,
"Who
are you?" The others looked vague and said nothing.
Sonny smiled like a dummy, "Sonny Crockett, I'm here on a temp
assignment. To learn about undercover vice work."
Mckinnin
frowned, shuffling the papers until something turned up. Sonny had
trouble controlling himself when he saw Gina roll her eyes.
"Oh.&nbs=
p;
You're Crocket, right?"
"Yessir.=
"
"Okay.&n=
bsp;
Why don't you work with..." He shuffled papers.
"Marco." Glancing around the table, "Marco
Zules?"
Gina took mercy on him. "He's not here sir. He was on
vacation, but he should be back day after tomorrow."
McKinnin's
frown was deeper, "Where's Ding Ortiz?" Switek spoke
up,
"He's
on sick leave."
"What
the hell? Okay, Stay with Switek and Sharpe until Zules gets
back."
"Um
sir, we can put our cases on hold. Why can't we work on finding the
Lieutenant?"
"That's
being taken care of. The FBI is involved, they don't need you in
the way."
"Sir, are
they going to ask about the cases we've been working on?"
For a
second Mckinnin looked faintly confused, "If they need to they
will. Everybody can get back to work, I expect daily reports on
case progress."
On that
pleasant note, Mckinnin walked out. The OCB members stared at each
other in silence. Gina and Trudy had an unspoken agreement and Gina
said, "Well GEE, I guess he's right, we better get to work. Common
Trudy, we'll just have to chase after our cases. We'll see you guy=
s
later, Pietro's, diner." Grabbing their notes the women were gone
in seconds.
Switek
speaking very quietly to Sonny with a crooked smile. "Come with
me."
2:30 PM OCB Offices, Lieutenant's Office
Mel
McKinnin looked around the starkly neat office. He carefully shut
the door, then closed all the blinds on the office windows. He
shook his head microscopically, "Castillo, you are such a neat
freak." He dropped the collection of papers on the desk and sat
down. Spreading the papers out on the previously immaculate desk
and allowing himself a single knowing smile before falling into
character.
Friday 1:11 PM Miami
The
door had a nice gold lettered sign that said MORENO LEGAL SERVICES.
The location was inexpensive and sadly, there was no air-conditioning
this week. Next week perhaps. A dying ceiling fan turned just
fast enough to keep the room from melting down, but not fast enough to
keep the flies that inevitably got in the
window from buzzing Izzy as he tried to work. He had just
killed
the latest fleet of attackers and was debating closing the only source of
ventilation for a while just to be free of them when a small hand banged
on his door.
"Mr.
Moreno!" Without another word, a woman with a huge mop of curly bleached
hair sidled furtively into the room; she was dressed somewhere between a
street hooker and shopgirl ready to party. Izzy looked up at
her,
"No!&nbs=
p;
No more! You owe me $500 for the last time I got him off, you owe
me for the divorce, and Court!"
Her voice
was a nasal whine that could cut
glass.
"Look.&n=
bsp;
I know it, I came to pay." Izzy's mouth fell open in real
shock,
"Pay?&qu=
ot;
"Not
Money." Real disappointment followed.
"No money." Worry creased Izzy's face, "what have
you got? And no more chickens." She stood nervous and a
little belligerent.
"Look it's
information. I tell the cops, they'll think Gordo was in it. His
brother tried to get him in it. Stupid shithead. A job on a
cop. Gordo's stupid but not crazy. Some Chinese Guys off the
dock offered big money, half before, half after, just to grab a Vice
Cop. Louis took Gordo out drinking all day after the job. He
was late to the payup. The other guys were dead. I heard him
tell Gordo about it, then he split town scared to death, wouldn't give
Gordo a dime!" "Jesus Christ!" Izzy's furtive
eyes twitched around his
hopelessly cluttered office. "Okay, sit down."
"Is
it worth anything?"
"Yeah,
I think so. If it doesn't get me killed. Does Gordo know you
came here?"
"No.
I'm walking."
"Okay,
Did they kill the cop?"
"No,
they were just supposed to take him, the Chinese guy wanted him
alive."
"Jesus!
Kidnapped a cop? These guys are crazy. Do you know what they
did with him?"
"Took
him to a place called Jin's on the docks, to some big fancy
boat." To Izzy that meant a major drug lord, and probably a
very messy death.
"Did
you hear a name?"
"No,
no name. He just said the guy fought like a demon even after they
shot him with the tranks, said he was scary, not a big guy. But
scary" Izzy was suddenly starting to feel ill. It showed
on his face. He could feel the hair rising on the back of his
neck. He did not want to ask any more questions, but the words
seemed to come out of his mouth of their own volition.
"Was
it a plain clothes Cop?"
"Yeah,
drove an old car, nothing fancy." Izzy winced a little even as
he asked the question,
"Did
he have a mustache?" The frazzled woman frowned a little as
she thought.
"Yeah,
they had a picture. Louis left it in the trash, I got it
here." She dug into an overloaded purse, pulling out a
crumpled photo, carefully trying to smooth it out before she dropped it
on Izzy's desk.
"You're a lawyer so you can do something with this, right? I
don't care what happens to Louis, the stupid shit, just keep Gordo's name
out of it." Izzy was staring at the crumpled picture feeling
very ill indeed. "Well? Is it enough?" Izzy
did not look at her as he waved a hand toward the door.
"Yes.&nb=
sp;
The debts paid..go..go. Don't tell anyone else you told
me." Izzy tore himself away from the dreadful fascination of
the picture, and tried to pull himself together, shouting after
her. "Next time you need legal persistence, bring
cash." When she closed the door behind her. He grabbed
the thinning hair on the sides of his head with a moan and leaned over
the desk. "Mary Mother of God! What do I do?"
Staring with horror at the ragged photo of Martin Castillo.
2:18 PM Miami
A
single small table lamp glowed in the dim hotel room, heavy curtains
closed against the blazing sunshine. The fabrics and furniture were
expensive and tasteful. The room was expensive and tasteful, and
more importantly it had a good bar. Dale Menton was a bitter man
who carried his authority with a jealous need to prove his power.
One way of proving it was to make a dangerous expensive asset, stand and
wait for him to finish his drink. Dale Menton took another sip of
scotch, thinking viciously of the years he had given to sanctioned Black
operations, everything he had accumulated in money and power. All
gone because of Castillo.
He was
back in a silk suit, back in Gucci loafers, back in the most discreetly
expensive hotel room Miami could supply. It was not enough.
His last
and greatest job before his downfall had been making it possible for Lao
Li, head of the most powerful Opium syndicate in the Golden Triangle, to
retire to Miami Florida. At the time, it had been icing on the cake
that an Ex-DEA man he hated viciously, was a Vice-Lieutenant in
Miami. He'd laughed about it, knowing there was nothing Castillo
could do. Then somehow Castillo had caused the Government to decide
that Dale Menton was in fact NOT above the law, his fall had been
devastating. He'd lost almost everything and spent time in
prison. Digging his way back up the food chain had taken
years. He was no longer visibly in government employ, but that
hardly mattered, now he was in a position to score beyond his wildest
dreams, money, power, and revenge. Swallowing the last of his
scotch, he turned to look up at the other man in the room. An
ex-government asset sometimes on the shady side of the payroll.
"Well?!"<=
br>
Menton
hated the mildly sardonic look Edward Reese always seemed to wear.
He hated the fact that the man stood 8 inches taller and a great deal
leaner.
"They got
him."
Menton
smiled. It was not a nice smile.
"Seven days. Make sure nothing gets in the way."
"As long
as you pay me."
Menton sneered, "Is that all that interests you? You worked with
the man once."
In his soft amused voice, Reese answered,
"That was
a long time ago, things can change."
"I'm
leaving for DC in an hour. Make sure things stay quiet."
2:16 PM Gulf of Mexico
Martin
existed in a strange void filled with pain and surges of heavenly relief,
and with that warm release the voice, always the voice. Persuasive,
coaxing, commanding. Controlling his existence. Planting
pictures, planting a need to do something so terrible he would rather die
than think of it. Making it clear that as his will crumbled the
relief grew and the agony faded. The terrible roiling darkness
remained, and within it a curious knowledge that he was waiting for
something, that he must hold on, must not give in. At first, he
knew that images were being fed to him when his eyes opened. So he
refused to open his eyes. Gradually he could not quite tell whether
his eyes were open or shut. Whether the images were before his eyes
or in his mind. There were moments when he viewed pictures or
memories at a great distance, tiny images hanging in the void. Part
of a life not really connected to him. Fragile soap bubbles.
Sometimes drifting close enough to make out details, faces, each time
their voices tried to speak to him, but there was never any desire to
hear on his part, and the bubbles drifted past. He was only holding
on, waiting.
3:15 PM Miami
The hot blue sky was like baked enamel. Sun blazed down on the impound
lot, radiated like an open oven door from the asphalt and the hot
metal. Stan jingled the car keys in one hand as he waved an open
palm toward the Ferrari 550 Maranello. So black it was like the
essence of all black in the world. It gleamed and sparkled in the
brilliant light. It took Sonny's breath away.
"My, my, my. So this is what the Prince of crime drives
now. Who drives this beauty?"
"Ding."
"Where is he?"
"He's in rehab."
"You're kidding."
"Two broken legs, and a slightly broken face. Took a short
freefall out of the car. No seatbelt." Crocket winced.
"Ow."
Switek dangled the keys enticingly on one finger.
"Here's the keys, you'll need wheels to sightsee Miami. I
won't tell him I lent it to you."
Sonny grinned, "It's been a while since I drove one of
these."
"Hey, don't put any dents in it."
"Yes Mom."
"Tubbs is supposed to be at the airport around 5:40"
"Just like old times. I think I'll check on Izzy
first."
4:15 Miami, Dockside
Parker
Kent pulled to a stop and opened his Real Estate notebook. Checked
his watch and marked the time. A pickup truck pulled in behind him,
the driver got out with a large notebook of his own and some measuring
devices.
Parker
figured this for an easy rental as it was cheap and the potential renter
was not extremely fussy. He pulled out a huge ring of keys and
began searching for the right ones after he greeted the man.
"This
one's been empty for about 18 months, like I said, the plumbing's shot,
and there's roof leaks near the west wall. It's got securable carg=
o
cages but that's about it."
The
potential renter sighed. "I figured on a plumbing fix. It
better be cheap." He sniffed, wrinkling his nose.
"What's
that smell?"
The rental agent shrugged, "Sometimes the fishing boats dump too close to
shore." Just as he was about to unlock the door, he discovered the
padlock was missing, the door swung open.
"Shit, that's never happened before."
A small
cloud of flies buzzed out the door.
The renter looked inside and gagged, holding his nose. "Jesus
Christ!"
5:01 PM Miami
Sonny Crocket couldn't help himself, he laughed. This was fun;
it reminded him of the best times he remembered in Miami. The warm
wind in his hair and the sun on his face. The feel of a superb
sports car. God! This feels good. He found a pair of
dark glasses in the glove compartment and slid them on.
Tubbs at
the airport, nothing ever changed. Sonny caught himself grinning
ear to ear. 'Alright let's see what this baby'll do'. The
Ferrari leapt forward. It sent that old familiar thrill right up
his spine. Sonny laughed out loud, all the time he'd devoted to
having the Daytona fixed, tuned, babied.
He simply couldn't imagine wasting that much time on any car
anymore. But this baby was NICE.
Sonny
pulled into the curbside pickup zone and waited. He wondered how
Rico might look; it was almost 4 years since the last time he had seen
Tubbs. Sonny imagined for a second seeing Tubbs with
dreadlocks. It made him smile. People did change, but
Rico? No. He was betting on a three-piece suit. When he
caught sight of Tubbs, he almost laughed again, with an effort hardening
his face into a casual, slightly bored smile. Rico wore a leather
jacket, a NorthEast winter outfit. Without a change of expression
except for a growing twinkle in his eyes, Tubbs approached the
Maranello. He gave it a once over and announced, "Now where am
I supposed to put a bag in this thing?"
"In the trunk like everyone else." Sonny growled.
Tubbs walked toward the rear of the Ferrari. "You got an
Alligator in here, right?"
Sonny flicked the open button, and Tubbs dropped his bag in.
"Not right now, but it can be arranged." Tubbs opened the
passenger door.
"Best
thing about New York, to cold for Alligators."
"Don't
tell me you LIKE New York winters better than this."
Tubbs slid into the seat.
"Cold
weather can be a good thing Man. It keeps the bad guys in doors,
locked up on their own. Hey, speaking of crooks, this isn't another
stolen car you're driving is it?"
That
finally broke the pose Sonny was trying to hold, A wide grin spread
across his face, he pulled off the sunglasses to see Rico clearly.
"No,
it's not. And no...You haven't changed a bit, Rico.
It's good to see you."
A flash of
white teeth split Tubbs face,
"It's
good to see you too man."
"I figure we got at least an hour or two before all hell breaks
loose." The two shook hands formally. Rico settled back
in the seat. "Okay, let's do it to them before they do it to
us."
Rico
turned his face up to the sun while they got out of the airport,
remembering the heat. It felt good right now, but he was starting
to recall that it never quit either. There were some warm weather
clothes in his bag and he was going to need them. He was amazed at
the build up near the airport. Once they were on the road he turned
toward Sonny.
"It
sounds like a planned grab."
"Yeah,
and with Marty that could be damn near anybody."
"So
you think it's revenge?"
"I
don't know. Somebody had money to spend, at least 5 Muscle, and a
disposable van.'
"Found
the van yet?"
"This
morning, dumped in a bayou with a driver. AND I'm starting to think
the muscle's been dumped too."
Rico made
a face.
"We are not dealing with nice people."
"Are they
ever?"
Blood Debts: A Miami Vice Reunion
