Red Rock Island (Damian Green Book 1) (22 page)

BOOK: Red Rock Island (Damian Green Book 1)
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“One or two weeks,” Ariana replied.

 

“And yet you answered Damian’s call when I appeared in his boat. Thank you,” the girl said suddenly serious and wanting the adults to know she appreciated their efforts on her behalf, knowing she could have ended up in a lot of hell holes.

 

“I took a gamble calling Ariana, because she was only one of two females in my life and when you appeared in my dinghy, I wanted a female presence for many reasons. The other female lives farther away and she’s a retired cop and somehow I didn’t want a cop in the picture at the exact moment I made the call to Ariana. I’d stopped by her house for lemonade one day when I was out on my jet-ski. So Hermione, the lesson here is although I hadn’t had much interaction with Ariana, and I did do a background check, I trusted my gut that she was the individual you see standing before you today.”

 

“So background check my friends as a foundation, but then run on my gut as a means of determining whether we should be friends,” Hermione summarized.

 

“It’s a little harsh,” Ariana protested, and then added, “For however long you need to live with me, there’s a part of your past you can’t tell your friends about, no matter how good a friend they are. I and Damian could go to jail for not notifying authorities that your parents were kidnapped and that we’ve temporarily adopted you. Likewise, Damian would be in trouble for creating your false identity to hide your background. We believe we are doing it in your best interests, but that’s not the way that the police look at. Got it kiddo?”

 

“It was much the same for me with my parents except it was their background I would never reveal, not my own. Although I tend to hide the locations we have lived in.”

 

“Hermione, you still haven’t told us much about your parents and I haven’t found anything on them yet. So it would be very helpful if you would share some information about them.”

 

“No, maybe some time in the future.”

 

“Okay,” Damian said with a sigh. “I’ll see you ladies tomorrow at the swim meet unless you need me for anything else.”

 

“I’m good,” replied Ariana.

 

“Me too,” muttered Hermione. She felt bad for not telling Damian more about her parents, but never trusting strangers ever, had been drilled into her by her parents.

 

Damian was approaching his island when the island alarm bell rang his phone. He was glad he was in the fast two seater, rather than the kayak if there was trouble ahead.

 

Chapter Thirty Five

 

Damian brought the boat to a halt and paused to study the alarm. It was his house alarm. Damn, these guys didn’t give up and they must have come by copter. He called Deputy Peterson again rather than dispatch as the description by even his own standard, was far-fetched.

 

“Deputy Peterson.”

 

“Hi, this is Damian Green. I’m sitting in the bay in a boat and my house alarm is going off. I checked the cameras, and this time the gang used a copter to attack my home. They’re trying to break down the front door as we speak.”

 

“I’m going to put you on hold and see if we can get our copter dispatched to your island.”

 

Damian sat on hold with his speakerphone function while watching the men try to bust into his front door. They even fired bullets at it and to his surprise and pleasure the materials he’d used were repelling their efforts. The presidential motorcade had the same glass in their car as he had in his windows.

 

Damian heard the click and the deputy was back, “Copter’s on its way and the boys from the Coast Guard and SFPD are also in the air. It will be about ten minutes for all of them. Stay where you are in the bay, do not get close to your island.”

 

“Actually, I’m a sitting duck out here, so I’m heading the opposite direction to San Francisco just to make sure there’s plenty of distance.”

 

“Good idea. I’m going to use my cell phone to broadcast our conversation to the responding copters, so you’re being recorded.”

 

“Okay.”

 

The Deputy introduced himself and Damian not sure who was listening to the transmission. He then asked Damian to describe what he could see.

 

“Six men with automatic weapons, axes, and sledgehammers are attacking my house. I should tell you that the construction of the house consists of the same glass and metal used for the Presidential limousine so it’s holding up well to their beating. They have not succeeded in entering my home or otherwise damaging it.”

 

“Wow,” was all the deputy could say.

 

“There is not room for a second copter to land,” Damian said trying to give the pilots what he thought would be useful.

 

“Can you describe the suspects?”

 

“Six males, Caucasian, some visible tattoos, wearing jeans and t-shirts; all have guns in the back of their jeans and some are holding automatic weapons while others laid them down to swing their various tools at my house. Now they’re having a conversation in a circle I’m guessing trying to decide what to do next.”

 

“What’s the ETA on any copter?” Deputy Peterson asked to the airwaves.

 

Apparently he could hear the answer on the other end as he soon said to Damian, “Nearest copter has an ETA of less than three minutes. They have a visual on your island. What are the suspects doing now?”

 

“Looks like they’ve reached a decision and are going to leave. They’re picking up their weapons and tools and heading back to the copter.”

 

“That’s not much time, they’ve been at it maybe five, seven minutes. I wonder why they’re giving up so soon?”

 

“My guess is they have your response time programmed into this operation and frankly it appears that they didn’t succeed at all. Why sit there hammering a house with bullets and hammers if they don’t see progress? They’ve piled back into the copter and are lifting off. Should I crash the copter?”

 

“No,” came the immediate response.

 

“Okay it’s departing my island. Can the approaching copter see the copter that just lifted into the air?”

 

There was silence for a short time and then the deputy asked, “Yes the copter has been spotted by all three responding copters. Just to verify its blue and white, correct.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Now Damian could see a total of four copters in the air. He sent up a silent plea for them not to come his way. The last thing he wanted was to be a sitting duck when a copter fight took place overhead.

 

Then to Damian’s surprise the copter filled with thugs headed for San Quentin. He smiled at the idea that they might land in the prison yard. He had no binoculars in the boat so he could see approximately where it headed, but not where it touched down.

 

His line was still open with the deputy so he asked, “Did the copter land inside of San Quentin?”

 

“No. It appears to have landed on a very large water storage tank on the hill behind the prison. The men are running down a ladder on the side of the tank and running for cover with guns slung around their backs.”

 

“Do you think it is safe for me to go home?”

 

“No, we’re sending a boat to that area and I’ll arrive at the Marina shortly.”

 

“Are there one or two of you?”

 

“I don’t understand your question.”

 

“I have a fast two seater boat and I could pick you up.”

 

“There’s two of us, but could you ferry us one at a time?”

 

“Sure be there soon.”

 

Minutes later, Damian greeted the deputy at the dock and he hopped aboard the boat. Eyeing it he asked, “Where do you dock and store this thing on your island?”

 

A reasonable question Damian thought, “I have a watercraft garage and a dock that folds out on the opposite side of the island from the beach.”

 

“Of course you do, but you didn’t tell us about its existence because?....”

 

“I value my privacy. I saw no need to tell you about the garage.”

 

“What if you were attacked there and we needed to defend it?”

 

“You won’t be able to find it, nor will the thugs, so I’m not worried about an attack coming from that angle.”

 

“Were you going to tell me about the garage or park this thing next to your beach?”

 

“Perhaps I was thinking about that question as I picked you up. I guess I shouldn’t have volunteered to be your chauffeur if I didn’t want to reveal my secret entrance.”

 

“I am a trained investigator you know. I wondered about that question when I was here before. You’re obviously rich and what an annoyance to always call the marina for a ride. I figured you had some mini-helicopter hidden somewhere that you used.”

 

“I actually looked into something like that. You know a man escaped East Germany when the Berlin Wall was up on a single lawn mower engine so the short distance to the marina would be a piece of cake. Sadly there’s a high failure rate on those devices, so I think I would ruin a lot of clothes dropping into the bay,” Damian said and then pointing to the cliff he said, “See an entrance anywhere?”

 

He paused giving the deputy time to look and then he shook his head and said, “no”.

 

Damian hit the remote and the door opened and with a second push of the button, the dock came folding out.

 

“Pretty cool. You’re sort of Q from James Bond.”

 

“I’ve never killed anyone, Q makes lots of weapons for James that serve to kill his opponents. That’s against my core.”

 

“Good to know,” said the deputy. “That means I won’t have to arrest you for that someday.”

 

Damian hated leaving the cop to roam in his private space, but he brought this on himself by agreeing to ferry both deputies. He was back ten minutes later with the second deputy who introduced herself as Susie Sanchez. He replayed the video of the gang’s attempt to break into his house, then they went outside to look at the damage. There were lots of cartridge shells lying on the ground and as few dings in the walls of his house but those walls withstood the violence of the thugs. He felt very satisfied in his choice of materials. He’d read up on how to repair the few dents.

 

“This is very impressive, both the strength of your house materials and the number of weapons they came armed with. Why are they so mad at you?” asked Deputy Sanchez. “I’ve seen this kind of violence before when it’s one gang against the other but never against a private citizen nor frankly one of your wealth unless drugs are involved. Are they?”

 

“No. I’m working with a retired homicide detective from SJPD; she was on their hit list so the two of us took counter measures, which rather than removing her name from the hit list served to make her and me bigger targets. After she met with a certain inmate at San Quentin she stopped by to see me on her return to San Jose. She must have been followed to the marina by gang members waiting outside the prison.”  

 

“There’s obviously a couple of stories within that explanation,” replied Sanchez.

 

“Yeah there are,” Damian replied changing the subject. “What happened to the men in the copter chase today? I’d love to hear that they’re sitting in your jail.”

 

“I was arranging for the crime scene techs to return to your island. Let me check with dispatch to get a status update.”

 

Deputy Peterson photographed the scene and Damian stood looking into the distance at San Quentin. Deputy Sanchez finished her call and said, “The helicopter pilot was held at gunpoint to fly the guys and while they were on the ground, one of the thugs stayed in the copter with his gun. Total of seven men; three died in a shoot-out, one fell when climbing down the water tower and the other three are being searched for in the neighborhood.”

 

“Crap that means they’ll be back. Natalie and I are going to have to do something radical to stop these guys.”                                     

 

“Natalie?” asked Sanchez.
 

“The retired cop.”

 

“I advise you against doing anything rash. Fighting violence with violence rarely yields your objective,” advised Sanchez piously.

 

“Trust me we’re not resorting to violence; this is going to be a bloodless effort to overthrow their leadership. What are your next steps here?”

 

“Like yesterday, the crime scene techs will review your video footage to determine where evidence is on your property,” replied Deputy Peterson. “They’ll also be over at the water tower so it’s going to be a long day collecting evidence from all these sources. Since there are multiple agencies involved, there are boundaries that will need to be established by all involved today. They’re our criminals but they strayed into Marin County so they have some jurisdiction for what happened at the water tower. Whomever discharged their weapons at the suspect will have to undergo a police review. It’s likely very confused at the moment giving all of the moving parts.”

 

“Could you guys collect the evidence so I’ll have my island to myself sooner?”

 

“No, it’s best for prosecuting these guys if the crime scene techs do it.”

 

“Aren’t the charges stemming from trying to escape in the copter and firing on police far worse than the ‘vandalism’ they did here? I’d be happy if my island and myself stayed out of any police case.”

 

“Sorry, you called 9-1-1, once you did that, it became public record. I suppose you could ask the DA not to prosecute on your behalf.”

 

“Can you give me the contact person for that? I’ll deal with these thugs in my own way, I just wanted you guys here to keep me from being killed and to run them off my island which you’ve done and so I’m done.”

 

The deputies provided him the name of a contact in the DA’s office so he could call the next day.

 

“I don’t think there is anything else for us to do here. Will you give us a ride back to the Marina?” asked Deputy Peterson.

 

“Sure,” Damian thought, anything to get them off his island. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

 

Less than half an hour later, he had the island all to himself and he went in search of Bella and Bailey. The island wasn’t big, but he was too big to scale the cliffs like the cats could do. Ten minutes of calling and they came running. Poor things had their lives upturned. After six years of no island visitors other than Natalie, his sanctuary had become a three ring circus the last few days.

 

He savored a cup of tea sitting at his kitchen counter, looking outside at the bay with the sounds of his cats chowing down the fish stew he’d made them. Peace at last.

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