Ogrodnik Interior 2.0c (30 page)

Rivka moved her head enough to see Ogrodnik now standing behind her. He was now standing straight up, head turned to one side like a prairie dog standing guard.
He had heard something,
she thought. Was there someone outside? Ogrodnik tased her again and headed out through a hidden door in the back of the room.

Elliot found Hochelaga Landscaping without issue. He drove by slowly and saw the gate and an old sign with the faded logo of Hochelaga Landscaping hanging haphazardly from a rusted pole.

He parked his car half a block down in front of another industrial type building and walked back to Hochelaga. All the businesses were closed at this time of night so through traffic was non-existent. He crouched under the closed gate and passed a small gatehouse that was there for show only. Once inside and able to see past the row of trees and bushes that lined the property front, he found himself on the edge of a large open area in the middle bounded by a number of outbuildings. The courtyard area was lit up by a few spotlights mounted on the outbuildings. The lack of lighting in the Hochelaga office trailer on his immediate left told Elliot the trailer was unoccupied. The largest of the outbuildings and the only one that looked like it may be occupied was at the far end of the property. It appeared to be a work shop of sorts. Not only was it the only building to have a light on inside, but there was a truck parked off to the side.

The workshop was about 20 feet tall and 80 feet wide. There was a large sliding door at the front of the building that was partially open. A light shone from inside, and from Elliot’s vantage point, he saw what looked like some old machinery and storage shelves along the back wall.

Not wanting to stay out in the brightly lit courtyard, Elliot quickly made his way to the closest building to his right. Once out of sight, he took his time to map out the area. He concluded that the fastest way to get to the work shop without being seen was to skirt the boundary of the outbuildings walking in the shadows cast from the night lights.

While making his way around the back of the outbuildings, he inadvertently kicked over an empty can unseen in the dark of the shadows and sent it clanging against a nearby rock. He froze where he was and let the clatter disperse into the night air. Seconds later he heard a dog somewhere in the neighborhood reply to the tin can clatter.
Likely a guard dog at one of the surrounding businesses,
he thought. He remained motionless and let the din die down. When he was certain that there was no movement coming from the large building, he continued on.

Kneeling just inside the shadow of the work shop, he felt the sticky coolness of the moist ground seeping through his pants at the knee. The smell of oil was strong, and he thought for a second about the dry cleaning he’d need for the pants and then shook his head and gave himself a mental reprimand for not staying focused. Elliot crept up to the side of the open door to peek inside. The back of the large room was lined with wooden shelving filled with old, greasy boxes and machine parts of all shapes and sizes. As far as he could tell, the room was empty. He drew his gun and held it at waist level pointing straight ahead as he advanced into the room, taking caution to be quiet. Now fully inside, he stood in the doorway listening for people sounds, his form silhouetted from the light of the room. The floor to his left was littered with wooden staves from a broken pallet, so he inched around to the right in order to avoid them. A whooshing noise passed by his ear followed by a sharp pain as a thin pipe cracked the wrist on his gun hand and caused the gun to skid across the concrete floor. Elliot’s immediate reaction was one of surprised agony as he bent forward to cradle his wrist. That reaction also prevented the Taser coming from behind to find its mark. Instead of a body shaking jolt that would incapacitate him, the brush with the Stungun nodes caused a spike of pain that took him to his knees but nothing more. Elliot saw Ogrodnik over his shoulder stretching out with the stungun forward to finish its job and, without looking back, grabbed a stave in his left hand and spun around swinging the piece of wood. The broken stave found its mark and met the oncoming stungun. Ogrodnik cried out as the stave made contact with his outstretched hand. Elliot spun back up on his feet to meet his attacker. Ogrodnik, already over the little surprise, tossed the shattered Taser off to the side and pressed forward. Elliot reached for the lessons he learned from years of Karate and instinctively assumed the Hachiji-dachi, the basic ready stance used by all Karate disciples. Ogrodnik, unimpressed by his opponent’s combat stance, reared back to deliver a heavy overhand blow. Elliot saw the punch coming and prepared to deflect the roundhouse and then counter with a closed fist strike to the face. What he was not prepared for was the brute force behind the coming blow. Ogrodnik’s punch tore through Elliot’s deflection attempt and glanced off the side of his head and then down onto the shoulder that took the full brunt of the downward punch. Elliot’s shoulder screamed, and his knees sagged from the blunt force of the massive fist. He was able to evade a short left-hand swing and, as Ogrodnik was winding up to deliver another massive right-handed blow, Elliot stepped into his opponent and delivered a Kouchi, a bent wrist strike to the chin of the giant that would shatter a brick back at the dojo. Ogrodnik did not fall; he did not even stagger. The big man’s head was jerked to the side, but the blow had the same effect on him as a carried infant striking its parent might
have. Now inside his reach, Ogrodnik grabbed Elliot by the upper arm with one hand and the front of his shirt with the other and slammed him down onto the cement floor.

Elliot was slow to regain his wits, and before he could move to escape, Ogrodnik had his feet and hands trussed with nylon tie wraps.

“The missing partner, how quaint. So much for the cavalry coming in at the last minute to avert tragedy. All you’ve accomplished is to get yourself killed at the same time as your partner. I’ll be sure to tell Ms. Goldstein of your failure before I dispatch her,“ said the monster in his soprano pitched voice.

“Before you join my growing list of victims I need to know who else might know about me and Hochelaga Landscaping.”

“I’ve got a whole squad of Montreal’s finest on their way here as we speak,“ Elliot spat back.

“Yes, how predictable it is for you to say that. No, I think not. You are here on your own. The guilt you feel for Ms. Goldstein being captured drives you to attempt the heroic. You seek redemption. You’ve already failed to save your mother, and now you will also be responsible for the death of your partner as well. The only solace I can offer you is that your guilt will be short-lived. Because, you see, the dead feel no guilt,” said Ogrodnik as he walked over to a workbench against the wall.

Elliot tested the ties. They were tight, and they were strong.

“Did you know the human foot has as many nerve endings as the tongue? I think after exposure to the hot end of my torch, you will be forthcoming in telling me what I want to know.”

Ogrodnik turned to the workbench, found and lit a small propane torch. Elliot saw the advancing ogre and feigned injury in a fetal position until the big man came closer. When Ogrodnik bent down to grab his leg, Elliot lashed out with both feet with all of his strength hoping that a lucky blow would give him an opening. The double kick found the most vulnerable area on the big man and sent him staggering back in pain. The torch flew from his hand and rolled away, leaving the big man in a world of pain and a seething rage. He could not have timed his kick better, but all he managed to do was enrage the monster before him. Ogrodnik took a moment to compose himself and then set upon Elliot with a vengeance. A single massive hand closed around Elliot’s throat, lifted him high above his head and then hurled him against the wall a dozen feet away.

Elliot awoke from a momentary blackout with a tilted view of Ogrodnik standing in front of him. Pain ripped through his head and left shoulder. He attempted to move, to get his legs working, to get away from the certain death that stood before him. His bound legs, still weak but able to function, failed to move him. He looked down to them and immediately saw the problem. A rusty bolt on the wall of the workshop was protruding from his shoulder. He straightened his legs in order to lift his body up and take the pressure off the shoulder, but the pain only increased with the movement. A flurry of motion caught his eye, and he looked up in time to see the blurred form of Rayce in the act of cracking a wooden post across the back of Ogrodnik’s head. Ogrodnik staggered and fell face first onto the concrete floor. Rayce tossed the splintered wood aside and rushed to Elliot.

“Let’s get you down from there,” he said as he lifted Elliot and pulled his body from the bloody bolt. Elliot shuddered as the bolt passed back through his shoulder.

“Can you talk?”

Elliot nodded. “It’s just my shoulder. Help me up, and cut my ties. We need to find Rivka,” he managed weakly.

Rayce forced his thick fingers into the nylon ties around Elliot’s feet and snapped them with a violent jerk. Elliot cried out in pain when the process was repeated on the bindings behind his back.

“Let’s take a look at the shoulder before I move you too much. We need to stop the bleeding.”

Rayce peeled back Elliot’s shirt in order to get a better look at the wound and might have been decapitated had he not seen the widening of Elliot’s eyes. He threw up his arm and lunged to the left. It wasn’t enough to block the incoming blow, but he did manage to deflect a portion of the energy away from the side of his head.

Ogrodnik’s pipe glanced off Rayce’s shoulder, then off the side of his head and slammed into the wall where it spun out of Ogrodnik’s grip and under a pallet. The force of the blow flipped Rayce over onto his back into the corner of the room. The big man was on him in a flash. Still stunned from the pipe and unable to defend himself properly, Rayce was on his back in the corner with his head wedged up against the wall and Ogrodnik overtop raining down blows with his massive fist.

Elliot was only six feet away and saw the entire sequence play out in front of him. The big man was relentless in his attack as his fist rose and fell into Rayce; the sound of fist on flesh spanked out across the room. Elliot struggled to get up and help but could not will his legs underneath him.

After dozens of strikes, Ogrodnik stopped the pounding and knelt down closer to grab Rayce’s head with both hands. Elliot saw Rayce’s head, now covered with blood and fleshy bruising, with the giant’s hands on each side. The big man gave a violent twist but lost his grip on the slick, blood covered skull. He bent down farther to regain his grip and in doing so hid Rayce from Elliot’s view. All he could see was the big man’s back, now facing away from Elliot as he struggled to get the hold he needed to finish the job.

Ogrodnik’s head snapped back from an unseen strike, and then his enormous body seemed to lift off the floor, and he was driven backward onto his backside. The big man rolled away to gain his feet as Rayce rose out of the corner, his face completely covered with blood and a series of welts already rising around his eyes. The only places on his face that were not bloodied were the whites of his eyes and his teeth, visible through a twisted sneer.

Elliot felt the life in his legs starting to return but was captivated by the developing battle. The two men were more cautious now after having underestimated each other once. The big man waded forward to deliver a crushing overhand blow; Rayce partially deflected it and countered with a short power strike to his exposed rib cage before backing away from the big man’s reach. This sequence played out a dozen times with neither side gaining the advantage.

Ogrodnik did not seem to be affected by Rayce’s counter punches and continued raining down his heavy blows against Rayce’s defense. Ogrodnik’s punches were easily deflected, but even the partial force that Rayce took was starting to take its toll. Twice he was staggered by the descending arm and twice evaded the big man’s attempt to wrestle him to the ground. So captivated by the battle was Elliot that it wasn’t until Rayce was blinded by a jet of smoke that Elliot realized that the workshop wall to the right of the door was now fully in flames. The torch that had rolled away must have ignited some oily woodwork that covered the main wall. Rayce was only blinded momentarily, but that provided enough opening for one of the big man’s blows to make it through his defenses and find its mark on his upper jaw. The force of Ogrodnik’s blow drove him back into the fiery wall and down to a knee. The big man did not hesitate. In two strides, he was within reach of Rayce. Rayce knew he was finished if Ogrodnik got his hands on him, so he shook his head to clear it and waited for the opening he knew would show itself. It was literally a do or die move. He’d allow himself to get inside Ogrodnik’s reach for the chance to deliver a meaningful blow. As Ogrodnik extended down toward his foe, Rayce launched himself up and through Ogrodnik’s outstretched arms and delivered a savage elbow up into the big man’s throat. Ogrodnik staggered back looking at Rayce as his hands came up to his throat. Ogrodnik stood in shock, hands on his own throat, mouth opening and closing like a landed fish in his attempt to draw a breath.

Rayce seized the opportunity and advanced on the laboring giant to deliver an upward palm strike to the nose that was meant to drive the bridge of the nose up into the brain. A gush of blood told Rayce that the strike found its mark before the big man teetered and fell over backward.

By now the fire had spread to include the wooden units on the wall and most of the ceiling structure. The old cans of solvent and fertilizer were now ablaze and helped create a toxic blend of black swirling smoke. The thick black smoke whirled overhead in a vortex as it sought the open door of the workshop. Rayce turned to pick up Elliot and help him out of the inferno but Elliot shook his head and yelled above the howling maelstrom, “I can make it out. You get Rivka!” He pointed to a metal door at the far end of the room. The fire, already licking at the door on that wall was threatening to engulf that entire side of the room. Rayce knew that once the temperature of the swirling smoke passed a certain threshold, it would ignite, and structural collapse would soon follow.