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 9
Tuesday 8:10 PM Bayshore Hospital
The long day was fading slowly. It was still bright outside,
but Sonny could see clouds building in the west through the window
slats. His mind was far away. The amount of monitoring
equipment on Castillo had been reduced during the day to a minimum,
although he still had a lot of fluids going in. Sonny had time to
think, but nothing he constructed made sense of everything that had
happened so far and that worried him. It meant there were some
nasty big pieces to the puzzle missing.
A perfunctory tap on the door caught his attention and he turned toward
the door. Friedman was coming in and Sonny's eyes brightened
hopefully when he noticed the doctor carried 2 cups of coffee.
Friedman's eyes twinkled a little although he never really cracked a
smile.
"I hope you took a break, it's long past lunchtime."
"Didn't want to leave. He's waited whole nights when one of us was
in the hospital. How could I do less?"
The faint smile spread to Freidman's eyes as he handed Sonny a cup.
"Debts of blood and honor. I know."
Sonny drank the coffee gratefully. He gave Freidman a speculative
look.
"Have you known Marty a long time?"
He watched as the Doctor's mouth twitched as he struggled not to laugh,
it came out as a faint breathless snort that reminded Sonny forcefully of
Castillo's version of a laugh.
"Yes."
There was a long pause then, and Sonny's eyes narrowed a little with
sardonic humor. He sighed.
"Let me guess, sworn to secrecy. Right?"
Freidman did smile then.
"Not exactly."
Sonny sighed again.
"When do you think he'll wake up?"
"Any time now."
Freidman checked his watch.
"Most of the drugs in his system will have worn off in the last hour or
so."
Sonny looked at the still body on the bed. Shook his head and then
rubbed a hand through his hair tiredly.
"I've thought about this for hours now. I still can't put together
any reasons that make sense. If they wanted information, why give
him up? We were ready to call the Coast Guard in, but they still
might have outrun us. If they wanted to kill him, they had lots of
time."
"Maybe they just wanted to hurt him."
Sonny looked up quickly, face gone very still.
"Yeah. I thought of that too."
The blonde detective looked back at his old lieutenant.
Marty's eyes were open, slits of black in his pale face. There was
no change of expression. A hot wave of relief washed through Sonny
as he bent over Castillo,
"Marty..it's good to have you back."
The expressionless eyes opened a little wider considered him for a long
minute. There was no recognition in the coffee-colored gaze, none
at all. The voice was a dry, cold wisp of sound.
"Who are you?"
"It's me, Sonny." Crockett said in surprise, he knew he
didn't look THAT different.
Obsidion eyes considered him a moment longer with chill precision and
then went past him and found Dr. Freidman,
"Sidney.." It was a sound like metal grating on
rust. Freidman exchanged a curious glance with the blonde detective
and moved closer,
"Hi Marty, don't try to talk too much."
The broken voice grated.
"How bad?"
"No broken bones, no big burns, no major surgery."
"Very funny. What happened?"
Sonny watched Friedman in confusion. The man's face betrayed only a
cool concern, there was no stress in his voice at all.
"What's the last thing you remember?"
A frown wrinkled Castillo's forehead, a deep crease forming between his
eyebrows. He was silent a long time. When he finally spoke
his voice was raw and doubtful.
"Jack got me out, we were on the run...I couldn't move fast
enough." He paused for a long time. "Something
happened...Where's Jack? He said he'd be waiting for me."
Sonny Crockett listened to all this with growing horror. the only
Jack he knew of connected to Marty, was Jack Gretsky. A mysterious
professional assassin of epic reputation, a reputation that Sonny had
been able to observe was well deserved. And Jack Gretsky was more
than seven years dead. He had shown up in Miami, pursued by the
Russian KGB and the CIA. A dying man who had come to Miami only to
see a friend who loved him like a brother, and force that friend to kill
him. It had broken Marty's heart, and Sonny had seen him pick up
the pieces and go on. It had stunned him at the time, that anyone
could do that. Sonny looked at Freidman wondering what the man
would say, wondering if the man knew who Jack was or that he was
dead.
"Where's Jack?"
"Marty...Jack's gone ahead."
"No!"
"I'm sorry, it happened a while ago. You've lost some memories."
"What happened?"
"You were taken."
"No." Castillo closed his eyes for a second; he seemed to be
barely clinging to consciousness.
"What happened to Jack?"
Friedman was silent a long time, he did not want to lie, and he did not
want to tell the truth. Martin's voice was harsh in the quiet
room.
"Tell me."
"You shot him."
"NO!"
"Jack was dying, he was in a lot of pain, it was the only thing you
could do for him. It was what he wanted."
Castillo's voice was a raw whisper as he slid back down into
unconsciousness.
"No!"
8:00 PM The OCB office.
The last sunlight turned the OCB offices a curious translucent
greenish gold. It always made everything seem abnormally sharp and
clear to the eyes. Rico remembered this time of day with nostalgia,
that feel that soon you should go home and relax, but for him and
Crockett it always seemed to signal the start to their real work day, the
night.
That clarity to the light, that edgy feel in the air, knowing that
something was "cookin". He liked Marco, smart kid. Young and
slick, and hardly burned at all around the edges. It made him feel
suddenly old, and way too experienced.
Marco Zules had known as soon as McKinnin showed up and things got weird;
that he needed a case that looked real on paper and supplied reasons to
be out of the OCB for him and anyone else.
He had taken an old casefile and managed to fill it with a reasonable
facsimile of an ongoing case. Everyone had helped, and the results
were on McKinnin s desk. Having observed McKinnin carefully,
Marco knew the man would do almost anything other than admit he wasn't
sure what was going on. He was quietly explaining some of the
details to Rico.
"Rio Dezipas, he ran a small time fencing ring until last year when he
blew down to Atlanta and disappeared. Now I've got him running a
bigtime ring with more action then L.A. We're all doing surveillance
and following leads. I've got him ordering 100K cars by the colors."
"Sounds perfect."
A stocky bald Detective with a huge handlebar mustache sauntered over to
the two desks carrying a file. He put it on the desk in front of
Rico.
"Here's that file you wanted, Ding." There was a twinkle in his
eyes while not a muscle in his stolid face moved.
"I got a call from that detective down from Oregon, says you should come
join him on stake-out."
Rico's eyes lit up.
"Thanks."
"Just tell me how it goes okay."
"I’ll bring back a report."
Rico turned his smile on Marco.
"Ready to ride?"
8:29 PM Bayshore Hospital
Sonny Sat back into the corner of the phone booth. He was so
tired it hurt. But hearing Sandy's voice was balm to his
soul. A Policeman's daughter, she had always understood him better
than any other woman he had ever tried to stay with. He wished he
could crawl through the phone line and wrap himself around her. He
snorted in amusement.
"Yeah, it's hot. I just forgot how hot it can get in Miami."
Her voice was like cool water, to a parched throat. God he missed
her. "Wish you were here too." It was so good to hear
her voice. "No, nothings really settled yet. We got him back
but we don't know who did it or why." His face felt stiff,
"Yeah, I know, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's
more going on then we know yet." Anyone watching from a distance would
have seen his face brighten like a flash of sunlight. "I love you
too." He held the phone for a long time after it clicked.
Hung it up slowly, and rubbed a hand over his face. Wishing for the
thousandth time in the last 24 hours for a cigarette.
8:41 PM
The Hospital lobby area was loosely crowded with people alone and in
groups. Crowded enough that a distance away with dividers and
furniture and decorative plants to block the view, the older man with
faded hair was hidden from view. Reese watched Rico and Marco enter
the Lobby and scan the area until they found Sonny. Joining him
near the phone. Edward Reese smiled and withdrew carefully from the
area.
8:48 PM Bayshore Hospital
Sonny smiled at the sight of Tubbs and Marco. Rico grinned,
"We got the message. How's he doing?"
"He's asleep, he came too just for a few minutes, then he was out
again. Friedman says it's normal after what he's been
through."
Sonny stretched. He needed coffee like he needed air at this
point. But his stomach would revolt if he didn't put something
respectable in it. He glanced at his watch.
"Friedman wants to talk to us in about 30 minutes. I really need
something to eat."
Marco asked as they walked to the cafeteria,
"Did the Lieutenant say anything?"
"Not really."
Rico did a doubletake; he could HEAR it in Sonny's voice. Castillo
had said something, something really disturbing. Even after all
these years, he knew Sonny well enough to read his voice and that look in
his eyes. Something was up.
The food
was surprisingly good. They sat and drank coffee while Sonny
ate. He kept glancing at the clock on the wall.
Tubbs was silent and Marco watched both of them. Finally he spoke
curiously.
"I've heard some of the stories about Castillo from Switek and
Trudy. They're kinda hard to believe."
Sonny looked at Rico and they both grinned at the same time.
"Believe them ALL kid."
Marco looked a little offended, maybe from being called "kid".
"Aw, Come on. The stories make him sound like a cross between Bruce
Lee and THE Shadow."
Tubbs grinned broadly.
"That sounds about right."
The black detective swirled his coffee in the cup with a faint
smile. He was always bemused by the endless ocean of secrets that
Castillo was. The man simply had no bottom, when ever you had the
silly idea that perhaps you had a grip on who or what he was. You
were wrong. And something else had been bothering him. Rico
spoke softly.
"I think he worked with Reese once. I think that’s one reason
Reese's here."
Sonny was turning over old thoughts. Old things he tried never to
think about. Part of the really rough time after he'd come back to
the OCB. After that time of endless nightmares. He'd been
gone when the case went down, heard about it later from everyone except
Castillo.
"You never said much about that mess with Borasca. Tell me about
Reese."
"COLD man, professional death on wheels. Smiles like a
coyote. Knows he's playing with you like a cat with a mouse.
I STILL don't know why none of us got killed at that bust."
Rico had sensed all along that there was unfinished business between the
two men. Something old and on Castillo's terms, unforgivable.
Rico knew that Reese was a Hitter if need be, a very professional
dangerous one.
"Would the Company send Reese?"
"Sure. But what for?"
"Everything I've heard from you, says the man works strictly for cash,
and rolling in dirt to get it is not a problem."
Rico grimaced a little sourly,
"Rolling in blood is more like it. I know the man's connected with
this. I just don't know who's paying him."
That was the other thing about Castillo that Tubbs had noticed.
Almost every time they met some old acquaintance of the man, that person
seemed to "owe" Castillo heavily. Whether revenge or loyalty.
From the little he had seen of Reese, he had no idea whether the man was
on anybody's side but the people who paid him the most. Insight had
told him long ago that this was one of the reasons Castillo no longer
worked for the "Company" or the DEA, or any other big Government Agency
as far as Tubbs knew. The man did not want to be expected to just
take the money and run, do what ever he was told without question.
Castillo knew there was very little black and white to the world, but he
had chosen to do his best to stay in the light. No matter how high
the cost might be.
Sonny
gulped the last of his coffee and stood up, grabbing the tray.
"Come on, Freidman’s expecting us."
8:30 PM Dockside, Emil’s boat.
Izzy and Manny were beyond filthy when they dragged down the
gangplank. It had been a long horrible day. The power tools
they carried off first. Now each had a bucket of rags and
sponges. Manny was all too aware of the many buckets of oil stain
that would need to be carried on board tomorrow and sponged
Down, and he hated the cheap sponges Izzy had insisted they use.
"Hard work is it's own reward, trust me on this."
Manny rolled his eyes at Izzy.
9:05 PM Bayshore Hospital
It was twilight, Sonny could tell that Friedman had just returned to
his office minutes before they arrived. The air was still hot and
the window air conditioner seemed to be whimpering with the effort to
bring the temperature in the office down. The room felt more
comfortable then any Doctors office he had ever been in before, and he
wondered what Friedman's specialty was.
Somehow it had not occurred to him to ask. He automatically
scanned the shelves while Tubbs and Marco were introduced, and discovered
that many of the books were on psychology or brain functions. Brain
stuff, pretty much all brain stuff. Huh.
The desk was piled with charts and books.
Marco, Sonny, and Tubbs sat in front of the crowded desk. Sonny
knew it would surprise the others, but they'd find out soon enough
anyway.
"What's going on? He remembers you, but not me?
"He doesn't know you, because he's never met you."
"What do you mean?"
Sidney Friedman frowned a little. Sonny could tell the man was
trying to decide how much to reveal. That alone worried him, it
meant there were secrets hidden inside secrets and layers of information
he might never understand or want to know about.
"What do you know about Martin Castillo?"
Tubbs and Crockett looked at each other; this was the last question
either of them expected to hear. Finally Tubbs spoke up.
"He never talked about the past unless he had to."
The side of Friedman's mouth twitched up.
"That sounds like Marty."
Crockett, Tubbs, and Zules sat in silence for a few moments, deep
thoughtful silence. Finally the blonde detective spoke.
"What I picked up over the years is just...bizarre."
Friedman smiled crookedly.
"Some people lead interesting lives."
Rico's face looked sour.
"Yeah, I hear it's an old Chinese curse."
"It is. How much do you know?"
Rico and Sonny looked at each other for a second before Sonny began
again.
"It's really guess work. I'm pretty sure he worked for the CIA
at one time, also the DEA."
Marco raised eyebrows at this.
Tubbs broke in,
"He speaks, Thai, and Vietnamese."
Crockett spoke up.
"Yeah, Spanish and Japanese. And more I think."
"French."
Crockett and Tubbs both turned to stare at Marco. Whose mouth
quirked up.
"I heard him dealing with some tourist jerk we pulled in. The guy
refused to speak anything but French, he was stalling hoping we couldn't
get a translator." Marco shrugged.
Sonny and Rico looked at each other bemused for a second.
Sonny went on,
"He took out two trained KGB agents armed with automatic weapons
with just a sword, and a gut wound that should have killed him. I
saw....I'm not sure what I saw."
Tubbs broke in,
"Remember that Thai? Lao lee's assassin? Marty took him
unarmed. And Jack Gretsky was a world class assassin, and I think
he and Marty were closer then brothers."
"They were."
The two men stared at Friedman expectantly. The Doctor was
obviously trying to organize what he could tell them. And when he
began to speak again, there were pauses and hesitations as he waded into
something muddy and deep.
"Look...I'm sorry, there's a lot I can't tell you.
Jack Gretsky and Martin Castillo had the same...teacher at one
time. They were ... working together. I don't know the full
story, just the bare bones of what happened."
The elderly Doctor went silent, and suddenly Crockett
found himself wondering how Friedman had come to know Castillo.
And why he had the idea Friedman had been much more involved in this
story than casual acquaintance.
Crockett recognized the "thousand yard stare" of a Veteran of strange
foreign wars. The older man's face finally came alive again and he
continued.
"It fell apart. Marty was captured. Jack could have gotten out
clean, instead he went back in and got Marty out. I never figured out how
Jack was able to bring him out. Marty was tortured."
Friedman hesitated a moment.
"It took a long time for him to heal. He was the only one Jack
would ever team with, until Jack disappeared."
To Sonny that explained a lot of the mysteries of Jack Gretsky, but it
made the mystery of Martin Castillo even stranger. Such as who they
were a team for?
"What does that have to do with this?"
"That was almost 30 years ago. The time in between is missing."
"He's got amnesia?"
"Not exactly."
Sonny was shaken and Rico was appalled. They both remembered
Sonny's bout with post traumatic amnesia and the crime spree he had
initiated. Finally Sonny looked up.
"What can we do?"
"I'm not sure right now. He's lost the last 27 years of his life.
Back to a disaster he barely survived. I think that means
something, but I'm not sure what. Either someone wanted him
to forget, or he did it to escape from them."
Sonny was thinking hard, trying to come up with a plan. At least
Marty was in the hands of friends, not strangers out to use him.
Sonny could not suppress a shudder when he thought of the months lost
forever in fog with his bout of amnesia.
"How soon can he get out of here?"
Friedman considered this. Sonny had the feeling there was more that
Friedman was not willing to talk about yet.
"Physically he's run down, I'd like to keep him here till he's off
methadone and in better shape. He's still got a lot of drug residue
in his system. Then there's the amnesia; it may fade in a few
days. It wouldn't be fair to hit him with a whole world of people
he doesn't know."
Tubbs spoke up quickly,
"Maybe that will help him remember."
Friedman raked a hand through his hair. "Look, I don't think
you realize how dangerous he is."
Tubbs was baffled.
"He's in bad shape?"
Friedman's mouth twitched up in an ironic half smile
"You don't know this man."
Tubbs looked Friedman in the eyes.
"What aren't you telling us?" he asked flatly.
Friedman's lips were pressed tight for a second. The black
detective was suddenly very aware of the faint dust motes floating in the
late evening light that filtered through the window blinds. The
older man's eyes were still and emotionless, the eyes of someone who has
seen so much pain that they sometimes feel nothing at all out of self
defense. His voice was uninflected when he spoke.
"This is NOT the Martin Castillo you know."
The three men recoiled.
Sonny looked at him hard.
"He's hurt, he can't be very strong after what they did to him.
What are you not telling me?"
Freedman's face twitched, lips pressed tight. Finally he said softly,
"Strength comes from the mind not the body."
Sonny stared at Friedman, trying to figure out what the man was not
saying. Friedman's voice got softer still.
"You don't know what he is."
"Then TELL me."
"No. I .. can't. If this were a comic book, I'd just tell you he's
a Ninja. But that doesn't even begin to describe it. This man
is more dangerous than anyone you have ever met. His vocation is
death in every form imaginable."
Blood Debts: A Miami Vice Reunion
