Gray Area (3 page)

Palomito watched and sighed. 

Diamond chanced a look at the big man.  It seemed as if Palomito
was, well … intrigued by what was taking place.

“You are a lucky man, cop.  I have never seen Juanita so wanting for
cock.”  He turned, grinned at his henchman.  “
Gringo con el carne
d’oro
.”  A round of laughter echoed in the room.

Palomito stepped forward and stroked Juanita’s hair as she finished with
Diamond’s zipper.  “But then, of course, that is why you are here. 
You think that just because you fucked Juanita she would not tell me you were a
cop.”

Diamond snapped his head up to Palomito, his lip curling.

“You are a stupid man, pig,” Palomito continued.  “And you trusted
the wrong person.  You trusted—”

He looked down at Juanita, who then turned her brown eyes up to Diamond.

“You trusted—a
whore
.”

Something in Juanita’s eyes shifted, Diamond noted, if only for a
moment.  Something seemed ... damaged. Offended, perhaps.  Even
angry.

And Diamond realized in these precious seconds that there was hope.

Palomito backed up to give himself a better view.  He smiled that
grotesque smile once again at Diamond.  “But there is, as they say, a
silver lining to all of this.  Would you like to know what that silver
lining is, señor?”

“I can hardly wait,” Diamond said evenly, never taking his eyes off of
Juanita, who was still on her knees directly in front of him, rubbing her
thighs.

“You make my Juanita happy like you have done before, and I let him go.”

Diamond’s focus shifted to Palomito and saw that the big man was pointing
his .357 at Matthews.  Matthews seemed puzzled, not making the
connection.  But Diamond understood completely.

Juanita reached into Diamond’s pants, exposed him fully, then took him
into her mouth.

“You have my word,” Palomito said, still pointing at Matthews.

The moment was surreal and for a split second Diamond thought he just
might lose his mind, for good.  Juanita continued to suck him, while
Matthews stared like some poor terrified animal caught in the headlights of an
oncoming semi-rig.

Diamond realized what Palomito was trying to do, break not only his
silence, but his spirit as well.  During Desert Storm he spent three
months as a prisoner of war to the Iraqi Republican Guard.  And, yes,
there was torture involved.  Out of twelve men in his unit that were
caught and subjected to damn near every kind of atrocity that could be
conceived by Man, Diamond was the only one who had survived. 

He could still hear his corporal’s words and contemptuous laughter … just
before an Iraqi regular cut off his head.

That experience in Iraq could never be matched for its levels of horror
and humiliation.  Or so Diamond had believed.  Today, however, things
were getting bat-shit nutty. 

Juanita stopped the fellatio and looked up at him.  He scowled at
her and suddenly realized that he was hard. 

“You have my word I will release your friend,” Palomito continued
nonchalantly, as if having Juanita blow his prisoners just before killing them
was standard operating procedure.

“Prove it,” Diamond countered.  He thought it might be possible
Palomito was preparing to use Matthews as a bargaining chip.  Palomito
still needed to know how extensive the sting operation against him had become.

Palomito smiled at Diamond.  “You are fun, pig.  I give you
that.”

He nodded at the two henchmen beside him.  They put their AK-47s on
the ground, then approached Matthews.  The ropes were untied, and Matthews
was dragged to his feet.

But Matthews had been badly beaten, and almost immediately fell to his
knees.  He was breathing heavily, and when he looked at Diamond, Juanita
was again deep in the act of fellatio. 

He gazed into Diamond’s eyes, and shook his head.  “This is
sick—sick, Diamond—”

“This is Los Angeles,” Palomito interrupted.  “To each his
own.  Get up and be happy that Juanita there thinks your friend has a
golden dick.” 

The henchmen chuckled at this, as did Palomito himself. 

Matthews tried standing again, this time more successfully, by grabbing
the metal chair that he had been tied to for support.  He looked from
Diamond to Palomito.

“Get out of here, cop,” Palomito said.  “Before I change my mind.”

Matthews hesitated for only a second.  He looked at Diamond.

“Move it, ” Diamond snarled.

Matthews lurched forward, heading toward the warehouse sliding door that
was open about three feet.  Palomito turned back to Diamond.  “Now,
it is your turn to give me something.”

Suddenly, Juanita was standing.  She removed her panties, the slim
material of her short skirt and blouse revealing every nuance of her
magnificent body.  Straddling Diamond she lowered herself onto him, a
shudder coursing through her as she negotiated his hardness to its final
destination.  Riding him, she whispered into his ear, “Move your hands,”
she said, panting between words.

For a moment, Diamond was lost.  His rational mind was a blur of odd
sensation and disbelief; but he did as he was told, raising his hands lashed
behind the chair up about five inches, all he could muster.

Juanita rode Diamond harder, her hands disappearing behind him.  And
then he felt something else, something even more perversely unbelievable in his
presently dazed reality.  He felt Juanita begin to untie his ropes.
 Diamond realized what she was trying to do, though mystified about
everything else happening to him at the moment.  He glanced at
Palomito.  Because of his angle behind Juanita, it was obvious that
Palomito could not see what she was doing with her hands.  Palomito and
the henchmen were chuckling among themselves, obviously content to allow this
activity to run its course … just for good clean fun, and gentle jollies.

Diamond was able to extricate one hand in another minute.  He was surprised
to feel himself ejaculate, and Juanita seemed to match his spasm with a
screaming orgasm herself. 

Behind Juanita, Palomito and the henchmen began to applaud, clearly
pleased with Juanita’s vocal enthusiasm.

  “Now, señor, I want answers,” Palomito said, as Juanita lifted
herself off of Diamond’s lap.

Diamond knew that he would have only seconds to work with.  One of
the henchmen had not bothered to retrieve his Uzi near the chair that Matthews
had recently occupied.  He had opted for a quick smoke instead. 

“I am waiting,” Palomito growled.

Diamond looked at him and smiled.  “We know you have eight more
boats inbound.  Total net worth of shit around four hundred million
dollars.”

Palomito winced, then stared at Diamond with blank, gray eyes that
betrayed little emotion.  He turned on his heel and aimed his .357
Magnum.  Diamond looked out the warehouse door, where Matthews was still
stumbling.  Palomito fired three times.  Matthews bucked forward as
the bullets slammed into his spine, then fell.

“No!  You fuckin’ liar!” Diamond screamed.

Palomito turned back to him and snarled.  “Si, I am a liar,
señor.  But you are a strange man.  Here, you are about to die and
still you can do what you did with Juanita.  That, motherfucker, is
estrano
!!”

Diamond lunged off the chair toward the Uzi now only spitting distance
away.  Rolling, he trained the weapon at the smoking henchman and squeezed
off three shots.  The smoker was lifted off the ground as the bullets
ripped into his chest.  The other henchman, not quite believing what he
had just witnessed, reached for his weapon a second too slow.  Five
bullets from Diamond’s Uzi tore his head off his shoulders.

Palomito ran for a far wall while simultaneously firing at Diamond. 
Diamond rolled again as bullets whined past him like angry hornets.  Two
more men from a back room appeared and took aim.  Diamond bolted up in a
sitting position and let his Uzi go wild.  The men screamed and died, as
Palomito reloaded and continued firing at Diamond.  Diamond marine-crawled
toward Juanita, who remained in a frozen, frightened ball near a pillar. 

Palomito moved, running toward Diamond. 

Diamond pivoted on his butt and brought the Uzi up.  The discharge
smashed into Palomito’s shoulder and abdomen, throwing him back against another
pillar.  Diamond turned his attention back to Juanita.

“Please,” she said.  “I helped you.  No kill me, Lou.”

Diamond realized that if she was turned over to the authorities she was
looking at some serious jail time.  He did not want that for her, even
now.

“Get out of here, Juanita.  Never let me see you again,” he said.

She nodded, and stood up.  Diamond thought that she wanted to say
something more, but she decided against it.  The distant sirens of approaching
police echoed from outside.  She broke into a run, heading for the exit.

The single shot from Palomito’s Magnum drove Juanita to the floor, a huge
wet swatch appearing on her blouse.  Diamond turned and saw that Palomito,
after firing at Juanita, was now turning the Magnum back at him. Diamond
brought the Uzi up for the last time and blew Palomito’s head clean off.

Diamond walked to Juanita, who was fighting for breath, her eyes filled
with tears.  He knelt down and cradled her head in his arms.

“Don’t—hate me,” she struggled.

Diamond shook his head.  “Never.”

She died a moment later, just as the police cars screeched to a halt
outside.

THREE

Turner Sage had served with Lou Diamond for over five years.  But no
matter the length of time, Sage would never understand the man.  Not
completely.  They were best friends but there was always a distance, some
indefinable schism between them, a wall clearly set up by Diamond
himself. 

The two men were different as night and day:  Sage, a tall strapping
South African, a rare breed of black and Pakistan transplant, once Deputy of
Security Services to the new government of Mandela; and Lou Diamond the
everyman; not a standout—which was why he was so effective in the field. 
His only liability lay in his eyes—eyes that missed very little and were, by
nature, unforgiving and accusatory.  They were eyes that made people take
notice … but once having noticed, the urge to look away was extreme. 

The man had demons.  He kept them at bay, barely, and that was why
he was SRT’s top agent.  But today, it looked like the demons were
fighting for Diamond’s soul, and the demons were winning.

A bad day, Sage repeated over and over again.  No other way to
define it, despite the success in nailing Palomito.  Sage had been the
Director of SRT for over ten years.  Casualties were to be expected. 
It was never easy.  Good men had died in this operation, and Sage’s best
agent, Lou Diamond, had almost been a casualty as well.  What concerned
Sage most of all was the inscrutable expression on Lou Diamond’s face.  He
watched as Diamond leaned against the M.E. van, smoking a cigarette that had as
much life left in it as the two dead officers being loaded into the meat wagon.

Sage signed off on the clean up of the CSI, then focused completely on
Diamond. 

Sage approached him with the same caution a doctor might an unstable and
highly unpredictable cancer patient who had just received news of his terminal
state.

“We ID’d the rest of Palomito’s shitbags,” he said.  “The girl came
up as a zero.”

Diamond blew out a smoke ring.  “Juanita.  She’s the reason I’m
alive.”

“That a fact.”

Diamond killed the fag he was smoking and turned to look at the bodies of
Matthews and Peoples inside the van.

“Rodriguez was killed twenty minutes ago,” Sage said.  “Apparently
one of Palomito’s people shivved him in a personal quarrel.  Bad luck.”

“Have you called their wives?” Diamond asked, nodding at his two dead
associates.

“Yeah, they’ve been told,” Sage said evenly.  “Listen, Lou, you did
good out here.  I know

“If I’d been smarter, they’d still be alive.”

“The chances of you coming out of this, all of you, were
fifty-fifty.  You said it yourself in the initial briefing two months
ago.  This operation was a success.”

“Tell that to their children,” Diamond muttered, his eyes on the medical
van. 

Sage decided not to debate the issue.  It would be a fruitless
exercise.  Diamond was deep in that state that Sage had seen too many
times before, despite the technical success of tonight’s operation. 

“I’m sure I’ll get the details of this action in the report,” Sage
said.  “But you hear this:  Tonight, we brought down a major dirt
bag.  Hell, we bagged the boats and Shit Boy himself.  You made that
possible, and saved a lot of lives by doing so.  Keep that in mind, old
friend.”

Diamond only offered a small nod.  Sage eased back, satisfied with
at least this little acknowledgement. 

“When was the last time you saw your daughter?”

“I forget,” Diamond said.  “A couple of months, I guess.”

“Take some time off.  I’ll see the Department kicks in a
bonus.  Shit, they’ll probably want to collectively blow you with ice
cubes in their mouths after tonight.  You made everyone goddamn heroes.”

Diamond shrugged.

Sage reached out and touched the man’s arm.  “The girl.  She
looks a little like Maria,” he said gently.  “Whatever happened—I would
have trusted her, too.”

Diamond walked away, staring at the ground. 

A young DEA agent named Lexington approached Sage.  Lexington
watched Diamond disappear into the night with something akin to awe. 

“Who was Maria?” he asked.

“His wife,” Sage replied.  “She was killed at an ATM five years
ago.  Shot by two fourteen year old kids for twenty dollars.”

Lexington whistled softly to himself.  “Christ, undercover with this
kind of shit for over a month.  What kind of guy can swallow that sort of
crap?”