The Shack: The Guardians

She laughed. "I heard. I also saw the way her mom was looking at my ogre today, and you're never going anywhere near the Wednesday Latin Dance class she takes. Honest to God, from the look on her face, she'd bring climbing ropes and lederhosen and start trying to scale the Eiger."

I stared at her for a second. She sounded seriously possessive, and I wasn't terribly unhappy about that.

She misunderstood. "Eiger is German for Ogre, it's a mountain in Switzerland."

"I know that, I was just thinking how great you handled those kids. You'll be a great mom someday."

She looked down at her plate for a bit. "I'd like to be. Someday. I want to be as strong as my mom and as loving as Angel."

"If you're anything to go by, your mom did a great job."

"She's been great. I was too little to remember anything about it now, but her and Dad got divorced. We all ended up back together by the time I was 4 or so after Dad got hurt and had to get out of the Army. They never remarried. Mom said they didn't need a piece of paper. It's kind of a running joke with Dad's old Army friends, they call her 'Ex.'"

"Sounds a little harsh."

"She doesn't mind. Nicknames are kind of their way of showing that you're part of the pack."

"Kind of like my old squad room."

We finished up dinner and instead of heading home, Danni ended up staying the night. She left early to get back to her apartment -- it was the first time she'd ever stayed the night during the week and I was starting to wonder what it would be like to wake up next to her every morning.

Despite classes and papers, Danni ended up the only thing on my mind, I'd even almost forgotten about the three guys I was hunting.

Just almost though. Eventually my targets walked into my hunting ground.

###

I'd seen them come in and watched them for nearly an hour -- they were moving around a lot, but eventually they picked a target. Syl was the first one to notice, she had a nose for predators -- years of watching over girls drinking at bars had honed it to a fine point. And she hated, absolutely hated, the kinds of guys that did it. I don't know for sure, but it felt angry, personal, but she'd never shared whatever the reason was.

She waved me over and gestured to the three with her sharp chin. "I think those assholes are up to something. That frizzy blonde over there is a bit more out of it than she should be, she hasn't drunk all that much."

I watched them for a second, trying to pretend I didn't have a stake in the game. "Could be, they're orbiting her pretty tight. You tell Nick, make sure they don't take her out to their car."

Grim-faced, Syl leveled a stare at me. "Not yet, something's wrong. The one in the stupid hat snuck back towards the back, he could have been using the bathroom, but he acted odd, like he was up to something. I just get a feeling, like maybe they want do it here, like that girl at the Morado."

Everybody who worked in the clubs had heard the story -- it was so odd and out of character -- hell, even the customers had heard. The Morado was having a lot of problems. Rumor had it that they were barely breaking even these days. Syl's voice was heavy, she knew what she was saying.

"Nothing back there but the bathrooms, the store room and the loading dock. As busy as we are, the bathrooms are pretty busy." I was trying to look like I was passing time, just talking, but I wasn't sure how it would come off to my three targets. "Syl, I need to move off a bit -- we need to catch these guys in the act. If I don't keep moving around, they may notice. Give me a sign when they really make their move."

"Got it." She paused. "I can probably stall a minute or two after that before I send Nick and Ron after you, but not much more. They deserve whatever you're gonna do."

I looked down, her eyes were glassy. "The police can have them, but they'll be going to the hospital first."

Her breath caught for a second. A sharp sliver of raw rage slipped into her voice. "Just make them remember it."

"I will."

Less than five minutes after that, Syl caught my eye and signaled me to look to the back where I just saw Joey D lead the unsteady girl into the back.

Getting across the crowded dance floor was slower than I'd wanted, and, of course, I ran right into Cassie. It took more than a few seconds to get away from her and I ended up having to force my way through the crowd with brute strength. That cost me time I really didn't have. I was risking the blonde girl's safety for this, and I really hoped I hadn't bet wrong.

I was really beginning to worry that I wasn't going to make it in time. Syl must have decided the same thing, I saw her signal Ron and Nick to back me up just as I reached the doorway and turned down the hall.

I didn't have much time, I knew Nick and Ron would be right behind me and they'd stop me as soon as they caught up.

Still, the pounding music of the club drowned out nearly everything. It would be perfect cover for what was about to happen to three bottom feeders.

I slammed my foot right next to the door latch to the club's storage room, just like I'd learned at the Municipal Police Academy.

I'm not exactly small or delicately built. The door gave way on that first kick and popped inward. Taking a chunk of door frame with it. Being my size can be a pain in the ass at times, but it does have perks.

The jolt made my knee flash with pain, but I'd been expecting that. The knee isn't even real, so it never seems very fair that it hurts like that, but it does, even despite the Mad Max brace.

I slammed through that door with every intention of beating three men to as close to death as I could.

And stared at a blood-spattered room. The blonde girl who Silvia had been worried about was slumped in a corner, still dressed, but completely unconscious, and apparently unharmed. Gently snoring.

Joey and his two buddies were not so lucky. They'd been beaten badly and were gasping pained breaths through shattered teeth. "Joey D's" eyes were open, but rolled back into his head so only the whites showed.

Nick spun through the door, with Ron right behind him.

"Jesus, Derek, how the hell did you..." He stopped. "You didn't have time to do this. What the fuck."

I held my hands up helplessly. "Nick. You'd better call the police." I looked around. "And a couple ambulances."

As we settled things out, Nick came over. "I saw you round that corner, we were less than 30 seconds behind you."

"They were out of my sight for maybe three or four minutes at most. Well, Joey D and the girl, I lost track of the other two earlier. Nobody went by me from the loading dock either."

After the police and ambulances arrived, Nick an I had a chance to talk.

"The paramedic is rattling off a list of injuries like a damn high-speed car accident. Broken bones, concussion, serious internal injuries. One of the punks sprayed the camera dome in the hallway with black paint so I got nothing there."

The camera domes were already black, so unless you looked close, you'd never notice the paint.

"What about the loading dock? Whoever did this could have gone out through there."

Nick grimaced. "That camera hasn't sync'd properly in a month, it might as well be on the far side of the moon for all the good it's doing. I think the whole loading dock circuit needs replaced. Every other alarm and camera works -- entry, main floor, upper deck, office, restroom hallway, just not the damn loading dock area."

Even with the confusion, I enjoyed seeing the three assholes who'd raped Abby headed towards the hospital.

The pleasant feeling only lasted three weeks.

###

I suddenly realized I was pretty much alone on the floor -- unheard of on a Friday night. I couldn't see Ron or Nick. We were packed, probably a lot of former Morado customers. I drifted over to the bar.

"Syl, what the hell is going on? Nick and Ron have disappeared."

"I don't know, been too damn busy to even notice. Somebody could've driven a herd of elephants by and I'd have probably missed it."

"I'll keep looping through here, but try to keep an eye on things while I figure out what's going on.

I checked the loading dock, the storeroom and the floor again with no luck.

I finally found them in the office.

For all the good it did me.

The first thing I saw was the business end of an automatic. Looked like a Smith and Wesson SD, but to honest I wasn't making a study of it.

Anthony Montagne was sitting in the chair behind the desk, flanked by a couple of goons. Two other heavies had been standing to either side of the door. The one with the gun gestured for me to shut the door behind me.

Nick was zip-stripped into another chair, while another guy, bald, barrel chested and considerably larger than me looming over him. Nick looked rather the worse for wear, blood streaming from his nose. Ron was slumped over in a corner, a massive bruise forming on the whole side of his face. At first glance, he looked unconscious, but I thought I caught a glimmer of an eye watching between mostly closed lids.

The goon waived me back further, stepping with me to keep me covered. "Back up against the wall. Big fucker like you makes any trouble and I'm just going to shoot you." He appraised me for a second. "A lot."

He backed away slightly to my left while the other guy stayed near the door.

Tony Montana leaned back in the desk chair. "We were just explaining the facts of life to your boss. We need my people free run in here. We have product to move and your customers are an outstanding market opportunity."

"Shit. The guys with the spike, they were yours weren't they? Take out the big guys on the club security detail and everyone gets more worried about their own safety than doing their job."

He cocked his head, amused. "Of course."

I studied him for a second. "What was the point of having the girl raped at the Morado? I know it was your asshole nephew. He tried the same thing here."

He looked distinctly less amused. "I would like to come into possession of the Morado. It's a nice location for a major distribution point. The owner felt selling a club that was almost printing money wasn't in his interests. It's not making him near as much money now. As to doing it here, I think Joey got a taste for it. The little shit doesn't have two brain cells to rub together. I need these other clubs as retail locations for the product. Dumbass." He shrugged. "Still, somebody has to pay for what happened to him. He had a shitload of broken bones, like somebody worked him over with a hammer and he got brain damage from whoever it was force feeding him and his friends their whole stash at once. His memory doesn't work right. Now he has to relearn how to feed himself and actually shit in a toilet."

The thought of Joey as a drooling vegetable warmed my heart a bit. I shrugged. "Wasn't us. Would've been if I'd caught the little kefe first. But he'd have remembered every second of it for the rest of his life."

I could feel my anger over Abby surfacing. The guy with the gun saw it; he stepped a half step sideways, rearranging his grip nervously.

The big guy over by Nick seemed to notice me, like a bull in a field catching sight of another bull.

Tony Montana gave a grim smile. "I know it wasn't you guys. I got copies of the police reports, I have a few friends there. Still, doesn't matter as long as everyone thinks somebody paid." From the way he was eyeing me, it was clear who that was going to be.

I'd figured that, though. Tony Montana wasn't going to have any discussions with us unless he was absolutely sure there'd be no witnesses. I started calculating if I could get over the desk, at least try to take him with us.

Suddenly, the door popped open. Laughing and giggling, Danni stumbled in, barely able to stay on her feet, followed by a blast of music from the floor. She glanced around, not showing the slightest comprehension.

"Sorry. I was looking for the bathroom." She shook her head drunkenly. "I don't feel so good."

Danni staggered slightly sideways while the goon on my right stepped over to grab her arm, while pushing the door shut behind her. She squeezed her eyes shut. "I think I'm going to..."

She bent over suddenly, grabbing her knees with gasping, heaving noises.

He let go of her arm and stepped away a bit -- nobody wants to be hurled on. Tony Montana shook his head, annoyed. "Jesus."

Dani's head snapped up to catch my eye. Only it really didn't seem like it was her. Not the pleasant, wonderful girl I knew. Not the silly devil-may-care Party Girl either. Her face was tight, cold as ice, expressionless and calculating.

She suddenly straightened up, twisting toward the guy by the door, arms snapping up and out in a mockery of crucifixion. Twin rods snapped out, extending from her hands with sharp metallic clicks.

Things seemed to freeze for a timeless moment. Probably no more than a fraction of a second. Then she moved.

She was just a blur of motion as she spun the rest of the way towards her victim with a staccato of snaps and meat cleaver sounds as she hammered him with the rods. I could hear bones breaking. I'd never seen anyone move that way. It almost seemed impossible, like some kind of an illusion.

The guy with the gun stared in shock for a second then began to shift his aim to her. Big mistake. I caught the gun over the top, freezing the slide and hammer. Then I began to fold his arm where there weren't any joints. And the wrong way where there were. I shut his scream down by driving my fist into his face and let him drop, pulling the gun from his hand. I turned just in time to see Danni blurring towards the desk, her first victim crumbling to the floor as bloody heap. The big guy over by Nick was struggling to pull loose of Ron, who'd wrapped himself around his leg and wasn't letting go. Tony was pushing his chair back, trying to gain some distance while one of his guys moved to try to intercept Danni and the other began to draw his gun.

She slammed into her next target in a tornado of steel; he never had a chance. He probably took four or five bone-breaking hits in the first couple seconds. But the other guy was bringing his piece up, and from the panic on his face, he wasn't concerned with maybe accidently hitting someone on his team. I had the gun I'd taken, but I was holding it by the barrel, there was no chance I'd get a shot off before he took her down.

I did the only thing I could do, diving between them, trying to shield her with my body.

Even the trip hammer blows of the bullets slamming into my back didn't stop me from catching Danni by the waist and tossing her away from the line of fire.

She landed lightly, rolling gracefully back to her feet as if she'd choreographed the whole damn thing. Then she snapped one of the rods towards the gunman; it actually made a sizzling sound before catching him on the temple, dropping him.

The icy expression dropped from her as she turned back to me, but her initial expression of concern turned to a silly Party Girl grin when she saw me pulling myself to my feet and stepping towards her.

She started to say something, but it was cut off abruptly when the truck hit us.

It wasn't really a truck of course, it was the office desk. It slammed into us with no warning at all, smashing us into the wall.

I lost my grip on the gun and heard it skittering across the floor.

It took me a second to shrug off the impact, I grabbed the desk edge of the desk with both hands, levered my good leg under it and heaved it off.

Danni was slumped against the wall, nose bleeding, all her energy and lightning speed gone; she was trying to open her eyes but having problems focusing.

The big guy had finally stomped his way loose of Ron. I guess he decided fighting both Danni and I was a bad idea and chose the "bigger hammer" method of dealing with us. He was stepping slowly towards us, while Tony watched confidently.

I pushed myself to my feet while the big guy waited, flexing his arms. He wanted to make a show of this for his boss.

As I straightened up, a spasm of coughs caught me, along with a sharp pain on the right side of my back. I saw the fine spray of blood on my palm. Kelly did warn me that the vest probably couldn't stop any more rounds.

I could see the big guy's irritation build as I just stood waiting for him. If he was smart, he'd have waited for the wounds to weaken me, make it easy. But I'd figured right, he wanted to impress Tony Montana and waiting wouldn't do that.

I stepped back as he surged forward, another fit of bloody coughs sapping me. His first punch slammed into my stomach, but it was barely noticeable compared to the pain of the coughs.

I just managed to block the strike at my face.

I saw confusion cross his features. He'd expected me to double over from the gut punch; his face punch hadn't really been on target because of that. Of course he probably rarely had to deal with guys even close to his size, and damn few that would be in any kind of shape. Probably none wearing a protective vest.

I rocked his head back with a hard jab, then followed with a right cross with as much as I could put into it. I had to end this fast, before the injuries caught up to me.

He staggered back, dazed. Most martial arts don't translate well to guys my size, but boxing does. So does Sumo; hell, it's designed for dealing with big guys.

I clinched with him, grabbing his belt, and heaving him into the air, turning and throwing him down onto the smashed desk in a classic Tsukaminage, lifting throw. It's an ungraceful, brutal move; potentially crippling even on a mat. The larger the victim, the more damage they take. For an untrained guy, coming down onto a broken metal desk, it's a finisher.

I turned towards Tony Montana, fully expecting to see a gun his hand. But he stood frozen hands up. Danni was poised next to him, extendable rod in one hand, one of the handguns leveled towards his head.

I stopped, coughing again. The corner of Danni's mouth twisted down. She snapped the steel rod across his face, splitting his cheek and dropping him.

"He looked like he was going for a gun."

I laughed weakly, spitting blood onto the ground. "He did to me, too."

"Hey." Nick looked over at us, one eye swollen shut. "I know it's been a long night, but I'd rather not spend the rest of it tied to this fucking chair. We need to get a bunch of ambulances here."

Danni, keeping one eye on me produced a small lockblade from her boot and began cutting Nick loose.

He rubbed his wrist. "Derek, this is Danni Wolfe."

Black clouds were starting to edge my vision, and a ringing sound was building in my ears. He wasn't making sense. "I know her name Nick. We've been seeing each other for months."

"Derek. This is Special Agent Danni Wolfe with the State Office of Special Investigations. Department of Criminal Investigations. Narcotics Division."

I stared at her. As much sense as it made after what I'd just seen, I had a hard time making it click.

She looked at me, pensive. "I'm sorry, Derek."

I started to say something, though I'm not sure what. Blood loss, shock and the surprise finally dragged me down. I saw Danni rushing toward me as the black at the edges of my vision closed in.

###

I spent nearly two weeks in the hospital; I was damn lucky. Only one of the bullets had penetrated the vest, and that one was slowed down a lot by the vest. I'd come off with a couple broken ribs and a nicked lung.

Danni had been in and out, constantly -- she'd only gotten a slightly fractured arm and a light concussion. She never stayed long and she always seemed uncertain about what to talk about. She'd diverted every question I tried to ask. Nick apologized for keeping me in the dark.