Total Immunity (25 page)

Jack felt the bonds grow looser on his right hand. And then he was free. He reached across and grabbed the gila, ripped it off his ravaged arm, then threw it into Andreen's pale, terrified face. The monster clung to Andreen's lower lip, hanging off his head like a reptile beard with feet.

Andreen ripped it off his face and dropped it on the floor. Jack reached to stop him from pulling his gun, but Jack suddenly began to foam at the mouth and fell to the floor on his knees, snakes heading toward him. Jack looked up, and through a haze of poison saw Tim Andreen raise his pistol and put it to Jack's head.

Though his brain was a scramble, his body feeling as though his skin was suffocating, Jack knew for sure that the game was over. One more second and the bullet would split his brain and — given the agony he was in — it would be a relief.

He heard the gun go off and waited for the split second later which would end his life.

But there was a loud popping sound and the owner of the Valentine Club fell forward on him instead. With his last ounce of strength, Jack pushed him over onto his side.

Tim landed on top of snake-laden Winkie, the two of them lying there amid a coil of vipers.

“Jesus Christ, Jackie! Let's get out of this freakin' snake house!”

Just before he fainted, Jack saw Oscar reach his short, powerful arm down to gather him up. And just behind him, coming in the door, was Michelle Wu, with a very worried look on her beautiful face.

32

TWO HOURS LATER , Oscar and Michelle Wu stood above Jack who lay writhing in his bed in the ICU at Van Nuys Hospital.

“Bad?” Oscar said.

“Only when I breathe,” Jack said. “It's like having a snake coiling 'round your lungs.”

Michelle Wu smiled and took his hand.

“That's my Jackie. Always good for a laugh.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I'm a laugh riot. Ohhh, man . . . Trust me, having this shit in you ain't funny.”

“Yeah, I know,” Oscar said. “But the doc said we got you in here in time. Just takes a while for the antivenom to work. You know what the guy told me? They used to make it out of rattlesnake venom, but now they make the stuff out of hens' eggs.”

“Fascinating,” Michelle said. “You ought to go on freakin'
Jeopardy
or something.”

“Whatever,” Jack said, writhing in pain again as his stomach cramped. “I just hope the hens' eggs do their thing soon, 'cause this is definitely not great.”

Michelle held Jack's hand tighter and he looked up at her with gratitude and a certain amount of surprise.

“You saved my butt tonight,” he said. “I won't forget it.”

“Yeah,” Michelle said. “I surprise myself sometimes.”

“I wasn't going to bring that up,” Jack said. “But maybe you surprised me, too.”

Michelle smiled and looked slightly befuddled.

“Thing is, I blew a perfectly good gig saving you, Jackie. Now that Timmy's dead, my singing gig at the Valentine Club will go down the tubes. I mean, what's getting into me? I might be getting morals or something in my old age.”

“I doubt that,” Jack said. “Anyway, I want you to know that I'm grateful.”

Though another wave of nausea and cramps shot through his stomach, he managed a smile at her.

She smiled back and then leaned over the bed and kissed Jack on the cheek.

Just then a voice came from the back of the room.

“Well, what do we have here, a party?”

Jack looked over Michelle's shoulder and saw Julie Wade standing in the doorway. She smiled at Oscar and glanced briefly but with maximum hostility at Michelle, then pushed past her to Jack's bedside.

“Oscar called me at home,” she said.

She leaned over and gave him a kiss on his lips. Behind her, Michelle Wu suddenly seemed to find something very interesting to look at on the ceiling. In spite of their problems, Jack was overjoyed to see her. She looked stunning in a pink cashmere sweater and a short black skirt.

“Hey, baby,” Jack said.

“I was going to pick up Kevin,” Julie said. “But then I thought that I didn't know what kind of shape you'd be in, so I left him at Charlie's place. He's sitting in the back room playing video games on Charlie's computer.”

Jack managed a smile. “That was smart, but I'm going to be okay. They tell me I need to spend the night — that's all.”

“Don't worry,” she said. “I'll take care of Kevin.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “That's fine.”

She hugged Jack again, then stood up and looked at Oscar.

“Do I have you to thank for saving Jack?”

Oscar shrugged and pointed at Michelle Wu.

“Not really. If Michelle hadn't called me, things might have turned out a lot differently.”

Julie turned to Michelle and did her best to look grateful.

“Michelle Wu?” she asked.

“Yes, and you must be the fabulous Julie Wade,” Michelle said. The contempt and jealousy in her voice were barely hidden.

Lying there in bed, Jack suddenly felt an intense discomfort that had nothing to do with his snake and gila bites.

“Jack tells me you're an invaluable asset,” Julie said. “I want to thank you for saving his life.”

“It was nothing,” Michelle said. “It was a slow Sunday night, and I didn't have anything better to do.”

Julie managed a small, dismissive laugh as Michelle reached down in front of her and caressed Jack's cheek.

“Oh, you're hot,” she said. “Somebody better cool you down, baby.”

She looked directly at Julie as she spoke, then turned and gave Oscar a kiss on the cheek.

“Take care of him,” she said. “He's my favorite Fed.”

Then she turned and walked swiftly across the hospital room and out the door.

Oscar laughed. “What a woman!” he said.

He looked at Jack and Julie, who were now staring into one another's eyes, as if they'd just met.

“Okay,” Oscar said. “I think it's time for me to head home to
mi casa.
”

Jack smiled at him warmly. “Thanks, partner, I owe you. Tomorrow we've got a lot to talk about.”

Oscar smiled and squeezed Julie's arm. Then he turned and walked out of the room.

Julie sat down in the chair at Jack's bedside.

“Sorry I messed up, baby,” Jack said.

Julie squeezed his arm. Touched his cheek.

“I love you, kiddo,” Jack said.

“Me, too,” Julie said.

“I know I've been too much into my work,” Jack said. “But you're going to be number-one part of the time. From now on. 'Cause I can't afford to have you leave me, baby. No way.”

He opened his arm and Julie hugged him tightly.

But inside she was filled with doubt.

33

KYLE HAD LOST all track of time. All he knew was that he and Mike had almost gotten out of their bonds — twice — only to be slapped down by the bearded man, their lives threatened.

Mike had been reduced to a ball of fear. He rolled over on his side, like he'd given up.

But Kyle wanted out.

He had been scraping his ropes against the old rusted pipes for hours. And worked his way through one of them. The problem was there were three more to go.

Still, he had no choice.

The guy had looked at them with such hatred the last time.

And then smiled his pitiless smile, which said more than any words about what he was planning for them.

They were going to be dead soon. He knew it.

Both of them with their throats slit, or bullets in their brains.

And they didn't even know why.

Who would have anything against them?

Yeah, who?

And not only that, whoever it was . . . who would have the nerve to do anything against his family?

Who would have the balls?

Not that it mattered now. He had to get out. Had to.

Tears rolled down his face as he scraped the ropes harder and harder against the old rusted boiler pipes.

The sons of bitches. They'd all pay. When they got out and told their dad, the assholes would wish they had never been born.

34

JACK STAYED IN THE hospital for two days, watching his swollen arm rise and fall as if someone had inflated it, then deflated it with an invisible bicycle pump. His stomach felt as though it had been put through a wringer, and he had dreams of snakes attacking his legs, sinking their fangs into his ankles.

By the time he was released from the hospital, he felt a serious need to hit somebody.

He had the information concerning what he thought was Blakely's Mason Security account but when he investigated it, he found that it was a Cayman Islands account and that it was protected by laws which even the federal government couldn't touch.

As for Blakely's wife, Val, she swore she knew nothing about it, and unfortunately Jack believed her. Zac had always been secretive . . . and Jack doubted that Zac would have let Val in on something that could potentially mean trouble for her.

Hughes's ex-wife, Leslie, knew nothing, either, and he had no children. Chances were he was going to use the money for his retirement in either Mexico or Portugal. Jack found travel brochures for both places on his office computer.

He remembered Forrester's Little Cayman account, too. So there they were, three dirty cops, but he still had no ideas how all of that connected to Steinbach or Witness Protection.

And he still couldn't recall the old case — if it even existed — that seemed to haunt his dreams.

It was maddening . . .

The thought that one of them might actually get away with killing federal agents, that he might walk out of the whole thing . . . that he might even become a hero if he happened to tell Homeland Security something that led them to terrorists . . . well, that was too much. If that happened, Jack thought, there was no freaking justice left in the world.

And for all his cynicism, Jack didn't want to believe that. No matter how lousy he felt, with some of the poison still in him, he had to get back out there. Do the next step, which meant finding Jesse Lopez.

So, two days after he was taken home, Jack was back at work. And ready to visit the car designer who had just gotten back from a weeklong trip to T. J.

Lopez lived out in the desert, near Borrego Springs. The place where the wildflowers bloomed.

Jack and Oscar drove there on a bright, sunny day, down Route 15 through Orange County. Jack was still in pain and half out of it on Vicodin. As they drove into the desert, Jack found himself obsessed with finding Jesse Lopez, considered maybe breaking his arm if he didn't talk.

Oscar, on the other hand, seemed to be taking the drive like a car trip, a mini-vacation.

“You been down here before, Jackie?” he said as he drove.

“No . . . to San Diego, yeah. But never Borrego Springs.”

“Ahh, you gonna love it, man,” Oscar said. “They got bighorn sheep down here with antlers like you wouldn't believe. And they got mule deer, and kit foxes . . . and the sunsets are amazing. Makes you feel alive, Jack.”

Suddenly Jack was annoyed by Oscar.

“You know,” he said. “We're going down there to get this fucking skell Lopez, a guy who is involved in killing federal agents, Osc. It ain't like we're having a freaking holiday.”

Oscar smiled and shook his head. “I know that, Jack. But, just the same, this is a beautiful place. Big freakin' state park, with all kinds of animals. You know they used to have a real nightlife down here, too. Sinatra and Dean Martin and Peter Lawford and all their chicks used to party down here. Amazing, man.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, moodily. “Freakin' amazing. Ring a fucking ding ding.”

Oscar shook his head and sighed.

“You can't let this get to you, Jack. We're gonna get the guy.”

“Oh, I know that,” Jack said. “You can be sure of that.”

He felt the ache in his arm where the gila had sunk its teeth in deep. Oh, yeah, he was going to get them all right . . . if he could just figure out who the fuck he was after.

And he'd had another thought, just five minutes ago.

What of Tommy Wilson? Why had Tommy moved over to the DEA? He said it was just an opportunity. But that opportunity had resulted in Steinbach being taken out of their hands and put into Homeland Security. And it had resulted in him getting freaking immunity.

And why had Tommy seemed so gleeful about it? And furthermore, what kind of information had Steinbach given to his new protectors?

That might not be easy to find out, but Jack had to try. Be- cause what if Tommy Wilson had been bought off , too? What if his happy new smile had been bought and paid for by the bad guys? Steinbach? Or someone even higher than Steinbach?

Because, the more Jack thought about it, why would Stein- bach go through all this shit, unless he had to?

Maybe that was the key question. The one they hadn't asked.

Why had a millionaire diamond smuggler gotten caught, put into Witness Protection, and threatened the agents' lives if he didn't have to?

Yeah, maybe Jack and Oscar had caught him, but what if they hadn't? It was crazy, but what if
he
had
let
them catch him?

That was crazy. Where could such thinking take them?

It was like a drawing of concentric circles with no end in sight . . . and the thought of it all hurt Jack's head worse than the residue of poison still in his system.

Up ahead of them there was a fork in the road. Jack stared down at his Thomas Guide.

“Looks like we take a left. Down Frying Pan Road.”

“Frying Pan Road,” Oscar said, laughing. “I like that name. Very laid back.”

“Yeah, real homey,” Jack said. “Just the good old cozy kinda place where you could have a meth lab. Or maybe contract killers live. Hey, maybe you could buy a place down here and smell the wildflowers with them every year.”