Sin City Assassin (The Bill Dix Detective Series Book 3) (26 page)

“This is going to go two ways. The easy way or the hard way,” Kunkel continued.

The man laughed and spit on the floor. “You Americans, always trying to be so tough. Fuck you!” With amazing quickness he brought the shotgun up and fired several rounds while someone behind him rolled a grenade down the hallway. The ‘
Dragon’s Breath’ shotgun shells, loaded with magnesium balls, threw sparks and flames down the hallway, blinding the two teams temporarily while some of the balls struck the agents closest to the suspect. Agents dove for cover as the grenade came to a stop and exploded. The force shook the whole house. The percussion of the blast wreaked havoc on the ears of the agents making it almost impossible to hear. Communication via radio was abandoned for hand signals.

Dix frantically tried to assess the damage and carefully looked down the hallway. The suspect was down and the full body armor was shredded. Dix made eye contact with Kunkel and signaled toward the hallway to indicate the suspect was dead. Kunkel looked down the hallway and his eyes brightened as he saw Blass run out of the room toward the rear of the house.

Kunkel brought up his rifle and shot at Blass. Blass dove to his right and landed in the master bedroom. He shut the door and locked the deadbolts. Then he placed two iron beams across the door at the hinges, successfully buying a little more time.

“Send all available medics to our location. Officers down, I repeat, officers down,” Dix broadcasted over the radio.

The tactical dispatcher acknowledged his transmission and worked quickly to send help up the hill.

Dix updated the helicopter pilot and advised that Blass had barricaded himself in the master bedroom in the southeast corner of the main building. He wanted Blass dead or alive now, but the downed officers were priority one. The able-bodied team members moved the downed agents out of the hallway and outside. None appeared dead, but several men had life-threatening injuries.

Kunkel looked at Dix and it seemed they had the same idea pop into their heads. Dix nodded while Kunkel grabbed his radio.

Kunkel relayed the message to cancel to the helicopter. “
Helo
one, 10-22 on the primary, swing around front side. We’ve got a couple guys who need transport to the ER ASAP.”

“Copy that,” the pilot replied. “Move those vans to the north and we can land.”

Kunkel took over the medical needs of the wounded agents while Dix and six guys maintained control of the hallway. It was a standoff that none of them wanted to deal with at the moment, but at some point, they’d have to force entry into the last room. Quickly and quietly Dix formed a plan to storm the room. He knew from the layout sketches there was a large sliding glass door and an exterior window in the room. He sent two guys out with flash-bang launchers to post on the window and door. They’d launch flash bangs inside while Dix and the other guys, armed with shotguns, would breach the room and find and finally deal with Blass.

Once everyone was set, Dix gave the command, “Green and go!” The two men outside shot their flash bang grenades into Blass’s room while the two
breachers
had to fire off several rounds to defeat the reinforced door. As the team converged on the room they heard a single gunshot and looked for cover while pouring into the room.

“
Laurin
, it’s over! Come out with your hands up!” Dix yelled. After a few moments, he motioned for the team to move forward. They cleared the room and found Blass in the bathroom. He was sitting on the toilet with blood dripping from what was left of his head. He’d clearly committed suicide, and as the images registered in Dix’s mind, he became sick to his stomach.
That son of a bitch, there’s no way this is over,
he thought.

He noticed a cell phone next to the sink just to the right of Blass’s corpse. He carefully walked into the bathroom, cleared it, and then looked at the phone. It was on, and it looked like a text message had been sent. Dix grabbed a pair of gloves from his pocket and picked up the cell phone. A text had been sent that read, “Son, I love you. Over for me, it’s up to you now.” Dix dropped the cell phone and shook his head in disgust. He walked out of the home and met up with Kunkel.

“This
ain’t
over man,” Dix said to Kunkel in a deflated tone.

“What? He’s dead.” He motioned inside the house. “All his people are dead. What makes you think this isn’t over?” asked Kunkel.

“He sent a text out to his son saying he was dead and it’s up to him now,” Dix replied in a somber tone.

Kunkel looked surprised. “Jesus, what the hell does that mean? And who the hell is his son?”

Dix shook his head. “No idea. We need to figure this out ASAP, though, because I have a feeling his son will make us pay for killing his dad.”

Dix ran his hands through his sweat soaked hair, paused and closed his eyes for a few seconds. The likelihood of another Blass-type person existing messed his mind up. He felt he and Petersen were still at risk and wondered when this would all finally end. Retirement looked, and now felt, much better to him.
I suppose it’s time to hang up the boots
, he thought. He hadn’t wanted to retire for many reasons until that very moment as he stood in the wake of destruction and wounded officers. He had an urge to call Petersen and Frazier, but he could see triage was still needed outside the home and he jumped in to help where he could.

*******

Somehow, none of the agents died during the assault. Several officers had serious injuries, and one would be forced to retire due to a medical issue, but no one lost their life trying to serve the search warrant and apprehend Blass.
It’s a damn miracle
, thought Dix. He called and updated Petersen and Frazier. The locals took over the scene and Dix left to clean up and continue the investigation. He turned to get into a patrol car as he felt a tap on the shoulder.

Dix turned to see Kunkel standing behind him.

“I’m working to free up as many people as I can to assist you,” he said to Dix.

Dix smiled. He was touched by the kind gesture. “Thanks, man. I’m
gonna
check in with the missus, clean up, and catch a quick power nap. After that, I’m
gonna
hook up with Pierre to see if the phones lead us to Blass’s kid.” He knew it was very unlikely Blass’s son would leave a trail behind, but Blass himself left a clue during his desperate text message while staring at certain death.
Anything’s possible
, he thought,
I need a bit of good luck and a stiff drink.

Kunkel grinned. “You sure are a shit magnet.” He patted Dix on the back. “Get some rest and call me when you’re back on the prowl.”

They shook hands and Dix poured himself into the front passenger seat of a patrol car. He’d fought overseas and been in some tough spots, but he couldn’t recall being so fatigued before. He didn’t want to admit it, but age was catching up to him and he didn’t like it one bit.

Chapter 46:

News of the shootout at the Laurin ranch spread quickly throughout the precinct. Most everyone in the building felt the crazy saga was over and the gang working with him had been eliminated. Pierre, however, suspected that maybe there were more people working for Blass that law enforcement didn’t know about.
Maybe I watch too much TV, he thought.

It seemed the situation was over, but no one could confirm the status of Blass.
I wonder if he snuck away
, thought Pierre. He continued monitoring the phones while anxiously waiting to hear an update from Dix or Frazier. Prior to the service of the search warrant, he’d texted Dix to let him know he believed all the phones Blass had called, or were calling him, after the shootout at the federal building were at the ranch. Rumors of several cops being killed or seriously injured had flooded the police department.
Man, I hope Dix made it
, he thought. Pierre shuddered, thinking about how he had agreed to tell Dix’s wife he loved her if he didn't made it. He decided he’d tell her in person if it was necessary.

About two hours later, Pierre, and all the others at the police station were given a solid update. No officers had been killed, but several were seriously injured. All suspects, including Blass, were killed during the shootout. Pierre couldn’t believe Blass was dead. His head spun just thinking about all the dead bodies out at the ranch.
When it’s your time, it’s your time,
he thought as he shrugged.

He started checking the phones again and could see none of them were on. He assumed the evidence collection team had collected them and turned them off or onto airplane mode. He really wanted to know how it went down at the ranch, but it would be days until the real truth came out.

As he got to his computer, he saw a sticky note. It read, “Pierre, Dix wants to meet in an hour for a cup of coffee at the Peet’s next to our office. This isn’t over. See if you can help him.” It was signed by Sergeant Frazier. Pierre smiled and couldn’t wait to see what the note meant. He swung his backpack back on his shoulder and walked over to the Peet’s to get set up for Dix’s arrival.

Chapter 47:

Dix felt a little better, at least physically. His headache and the fatigue feeling had dissipated, and the smell of his wife on his shirt made him grin. He'd caught a quick catnap after they had made love. She told him to hurry back, and with a little luck, he thought he might be able to comply. On the way to meet Pierre, he’d stopped and checked on Petersen and Michelle. The doctor had finally discharged Petersen and of course, his partner expressed an interest to help Dix with follow up. After a heated discussion, they agreed he needed to play from the sidelines. Michelle and Petersen decided to stay in town until Dix and his wife decided to go home.

The whole thing about Blass having a son rocked Dix to his core. There was no mention of it in any of the files or case notes, and no one had even suggested it. Nevertheless, based on what he knew, Dix was sure Blass’s son would be just as dangerous, probably even more, than Blass. He noticed he had some voicemails he hadn’t seen until now. Several were from his friend, Andrew Snead.

He dialed Snead. “What’s up, buddy?”

“About damn time you called me back!” Snead sounded pissed.

“Whoa, calm down! I’m sorry, buddy. We just had a shootout with Blass, and I didn’t see the messages.” Dix felt bad.

“A shootout? What happened?”

Dix relayed the update to Snead.

Snead whistled, “So he’s dead? You saw him dead?” Snead wanted to make sure.

“Yeah. Shot himself in the mouth.” Dix saw the image of Blass’s mangled face and shuddered.

“Guess he’s dead then. Why aren’t you and Petersen flying home then?”

“Well, the guy has a son. He texted him during the battle and told him it was up to him to finish now, whatever that means,” replied Dix.

Snead thought a moment, and then his eyes widened. “When I was working all the names and looking at old records, especially the baseball stories in Canada, I think there was a mention of Laurin possibly having an illegitimate son.”

Snead’s statement caught Dix off guard. “What? Can you dig it up again?”

Snead punched up the article. “It’s right here, an unrelated story from years ago. It say’s a woman petitioned the court saying she had a child with Laurin. He denied it, but the motion disappeared. I bet he paid her off.”

Dix shook his head. “So it’s possible he did have a kid. Then spent all his time trying to keep him a secret. I don’t like the sound of that.”

“If that’s the case, he’s going to be a threat, and you’ll never see him coming. I’ll see what I can do on my end. You guys need to be careful.” Snead considered his statement. He hoped Dix would slow down and be careful.

“Got it. I’m meeting with a kid now who might help me figure this out based on the phones. I’ll keep you posted. Call me if you dig something up.” He hung up and parked in front of Peet’s coffee. His mind struggled with how to identify Blass’s son and he hoped Pierre could shed some light on the recent development.

He found Pierre sitting in a corner with his laptop plugged into the wall. He walked over to him.

“Whatcha’ drinking?” Dix asked him.

Pierre looked up. “I’m good.” He shook his bottle of water. “Grab a cup, and let’s get this figured out.”

Dix laughed at Pierre’s enthusiasm and ordered a latte.

He sat down and shook Pierre’s hand. “Ok, so Blass has a son. He texted him,” Dix reached into his pocket for his cell phone, opened it, and found a number, “at this number during the shootout.” He showed it to Pierre.

Pierre plugged it into the search function for the data collected from the cell phones in the case and hit enter. Dix felt his stomach gurgle and decided he needed to use the bathroom.

“Hey, I gotta hit the head; I’ll fill you in when I get back.”

When Dix walked back to the table, Pierre looked up and smiled at him.

“I think I got something here.”

Dix took a sip of his latte and made a weird face.

Pierre looked at him and continued, “You okay?”

“Yeah, tastes kind of salty,” he took another drink and it tasted fine. He shrugged. “What have you got?”

“This number you gave me is on Blass’s records, but none of the others. In fact, it only communicated with Blass’s phone two times, once about six months ago and then yesterday.” Pierre watched Dix intently.

Dix felt giddy as the room began to sway back and forth.
What the hell is going on here?
Then he started seeing double vision and couldn’t move his arms like he wanted to.

“Dix, Dix! You okay?” Pierre tried to help him up. He struggled at first, but was able to get him up and moving toward the door. In the struggle to help Dix, he inadvertently left his laptop behind.